


The Trysting

by CloakedSparrow



Series: Collected Bat-Family Stories [53]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman: Gotham Knights (Comics), DCU (Comics), Detective Comics (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics), Young Justice (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Children, Attempted Drugging, Bat Family, Canon-Typical Violence, Child Murder, Commissioner Gordon is Awesome, Disturbing Themes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Friend Kon-El | Conner Kent, Hurt Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jervis Tetch is Creepy AF, Kidnapping, Major Character Injury, Past Character Death, Protective Jason Todd, Protective Jim Gordon, Protective Kon-El | Conner Kent, Restraints, Tim Drake Has a Bad Time, super family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:40:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloakedSparrow/pseuds/CloakedSparrow
Summary: The story of Tim Wayne's kidnapping duringKidnapping the Waynes.
Relationships: Dex-Starr & Tim Drake, No Romantic Relationship(s), Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: Collected Bat-Family Stories [53]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/734523
Comments: 58
Kudos: 247





	1. The Kidnapping

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place during the first chapter of ['Kidnapping the Waynes'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15687246). It makes more sense if you've read that first, and if you want to know what happens with the kidnapper afterwards, you will need to read the second chapter of that story.  
> Other stories referenced will be listed at the end notes.

An alarm on Tim’s phone was the only warning. He’d set it up so he was aware the second security was altered, breached, overridden, or tampered with in any way, even if the attempt failed. 

This attempt _hadn’t_ failed. Someone successfully turned off the silent alarms. It hadn’t been hacked either. Rather, it had been turned off via remote using one of Wayne Enterprises security codes. 

Each member of the board was present at the meeting, discussing business over the salads and sandwiches they’d ordered in when it became clear it was going to run long. Lucius was present, trying to keep everyone on topic and on the same page, as usual. The only people who would have had those codes that weren’t present were Bruce and Jason. Technically, the latter wasn’t suppose to have those codes, but Tim thought it was best if he did, just in case. They hadn’t told anyone else that Jason had them and his brother was only supposed to use them in case of an emergency.

Even if it _was_ some kind of emergency, Tim doubted that Jason would break into their company without giving him a heads up. Jason knew about the security his little brother had in place. He’d know Tim would be alerted the second he acted. He’d know it would be a concern. Tim couldn’t see his big brother just going ahead and doing it without finding a way to tell him, no matter the reason for the break in. They had codes for this sort of thing, so it wasn’t like he’d have to text ‘I’m taking down W.E. security’ or anything equally incriminating. 

Bruce and Tim weren’t on the best of terms at present, but Tim was pretty sure he was the only one feeling so awkward or uncertain between them. If Bruce was even aware of the elephant in the room, he made no show of it. So while they didn’t have any specific codes for it, he still would expect the man to give him some sort of heads up. Even if it were just to make sure Tim didn’t get in his way trying to find out what was going on in his building. Assuming, of course, that the man stopped to think of him at all.

Tim shook the thought off. It wasn’t the time to risk stumbling down that hole. Even if Bruce didn’t care about him, the man was still the world’s greatest detective. He would have thought through any obstacles in his path, and taking down their security while Tim was working was going to create a very notable obstacle. Bruce would never do anything that sloppy when there was a better alternative. He would never risk drawing that type of attention to his parent’s company without a _very_ good reason.

And Tim couldn't think of _any_ reason why either his big brother or adopted father would shut the alarms down at present. 

It was the middle of the day. If one of them needed access for something related to their work as a vigilante, they could have just made their excuses and come in as Bruce Wayne or Jason Todd-Wayne. It would ultimately draw less attention than a security incident. They also could have made an excuse to speak to Tim, and he could have made sure there were no security alerts sent out at all. Shutting the alarms down this way was an unnecessary risk, and a careless one at that.

All of which meant, it wasn’t either of them. 

Another alert went off on his phone almost immediately after the first. The cameras at the rear entrance had been shut down. Someone was entering the building that didn’t want to be seen. Whether that was a thief, a Rogue, a dishonest employee partaking in corporate espionage, or -though highly unlikely- Batman, Tim had to find out. From his office, he could fix the cameras and see what was going on in private. 

He interrupted the speaker as politely as possible, considering the situation. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to stop you there. We’ve had a security incident that I need to look into.”

Naturally, that was met with a flood of questions and some veiled insults. 

Tim didn’t respond to the insults. Telling them that he didn’t appreciate being treated like a child when he was doing his job would only lead to them claiming he was acting like a child by throwing a tantrum, no matter how he phrased it. Not to mention the fact that a few members of the board would love the opportunity to point out that he _literally_ was a child. It was an ongoing, underhanded argument between him and several key members of the board; those who felt it was somehow beneath them to work for a child. Those who felt they were _owed_ more power or control of his adopted father’s company.

On a good day, Tim barely had the energy to spare for that fight. At present, he definitely didn’t have time for it. He stood, prepared to walk out even as they were speaking in veiled threats and insults. 

Another alert. The cameras in the stairwell shut down. 

He spoke calmly but confidently as he made his way around the overly large board meeting table. His mind was going through dozens of possible scenarios even as he did so. “I’ll let you know as soon as I have it handled. In the meantime, Lucius can take over this meeting and fill me in afterwards. Thank you.”

Next, the hall cameras went down. Tim felt a growing sense of unease. Whoever was doing it definitely wasn’t Bruce. It wasn’t the way he operated. It was too obvious. It showcased the movement too much. 

Someone else was in the building and they were coming straight for the conference room. Fast. They knew exactly where they were going. They had a clear purpose. They had help from someone on the inside. They had to.

Tim heard the conference room doors lock just as he reached to open one of them. He paused to listen immediately, hearing Lucius stop speaking as soon as he heard it too. Lucius told everyone else to stay quiet while Tim moved closer to the doors to hear what was happening on the other side. Mrs Torres, Lucius’ assistant, was speaking very firmly. She was clearly denying someone entrance to the room.

Tim didn’t like to do this sort of thing in front of potential witnesses, but he needed to know what he was dealing with. So he hacked one of his own security cameras using his phone. He reasoned that most of the board was too concerned with what was happening to pay him much mind. Those that did honestly shouldn’t find it that strange that a sixteen-year-old genius who was CEO of the company could hack their cameras. They might not appreciate him doing so without taking the proper channels, but it shouldn’t lead them to suspecting he dressed up as a bird and went around solving crimes at night. 

The camera showed two armed men -dressed oddly formal and wearing animal masks- threatening Mrs Torres. For them to have gotten that far, they would have needed to get past at least half a dozen security guards. There was no way they hadn’t already hurt someone. Tim didn’t want anyone else harmed. 

He turned and spoke quietly enough that the men wouldn’t hear through the closed doors and over their own shouting at Mrs Torres. “Everyone stay quiet and get down. I think we’re being robbed. There are armed men on the other side of the door.”

Tim honestly understood that most people -especially the ones in the room with him- were not nearly as accustomed to being threatened or harmed as he was. He was truly sympathetic to the fear they were feeling. Still, this sort of thing happened in Gotham often enough that he was a little surprised by just how strongly some of the board members reacted to the news. He’d expected them to be afraid, possibly even angry. He hadn’t expected them to be so frightened or outraged that they ceased to function correctly for the situation. 

He and Lucius had to push on a few of them to get them to get down. Some were clearly panicking. Others were already threatening, preparing to bargain, crying, or praying. Lucius shot him a look that said ‘you see what I had to deal with before you came along’ quickly followed by a nod that read ‘best of luck to you’ before he took cover as well. 

The men were in front of the door when he checked again. Mrs Torres was attempting to bodily block their entrance. One of the men struck her with a heavy, brass-handled cane just as Tim was about to unlock the door. He saw their next move just in time to dive out of the way when that was followed by them shooting the the door lock and then kicking the doors in. 

The masks were somewhat unsettling but Tim had seen far more frightening things that weren’t made of PVC or silicone rubber. He held up his empty hands when the men entered, standing between them and Lucius and the others. He needed to take control of the situation but still sound like a young businessman and not a vigilante.

He pitched his voice to sound like the confidence he was projecting was largely false. The masked men would assume it was covering the fear of a teenager who wasn’t prepared to face down scary masks and guns when he came to work that morning. He sounded like a kid pretending to be a grown up. He tried not to consider just how accurate that was. He tried not to consider how frightening or ridiculous it was that he was so often needed to step in for adults who couldn’t handle the situation.

He had more important things to worry about at present.

“My name is Timothy Wayne. I’m the CEO here. Please, whatever this is about, I’m sure we can come to an agreement where no one else has to be hurt.”

The two men looked at one another. One, wearing a mouse mask, checked a photo that he’d had in the pocket of his waistcoat. He showed it to the other, allowing Tim to catch a glimpse of a recent photo of himself. 

“Well, that was easy.” The man’s voice told Tim he was from the East Coast, but not Gotham, not originally. 

The other man, wearing a hare mask, pointed his cane at Tim. His voice sounded like Gotham’s East End. “What this is about, kiddo, is you’re gonna come with us. Do it quiet-like, and no one else has gotta get hurt. Give us a hard time, and we start cracking your employees’ heads open like watermelons.”

“Don’t do it, Tim.” Lucius was standing, but on the other side of the very large board table. He was out of immediate harm’s way, but still making it known that he was standing with Tim. The other board members were still ducking. One called out her agreement with Lucius’ advice. She was shushed by at least three others. 

Tim took a silent breath. The men weren’t asking for money or codes or anything offhand. They had Wayne Tower security codes and a photo of Tim Wayne. They were clearly hired help; their suits weren’t the best fit and they didn’t even know who they were there for offhand. All in all, the most likely conclusion was this was a hired kidnapping of a billionaire’s child or the CEO of a major worldwide business conglomerate. 

He was prepared for this sort of thing. 

He lowered his hands slowly and gave a short nod. “Okay. I’ll go with you _if_ you promise not to hurt anyone else. Deal?”

“Deal.” The hare’s tone sounded amused. “Or did you need a pinky promise, squirt?”

One day, Tim wouldn’t look like he was twelve. He reminded himself of that fact for what was probably the tenth time that month. He didn’t have long to dwell on the inconvenience of his baby face when the man grabbed him and shoved him ahead, leading him back out the way they’d come. Something hard and narrow was pressed into his back the whole way. He could identify it as a gun but not the exact model. He considered briefly that Jason or Cassandra probably would have been able to.

Before they reached the rear exit, the mouse spoke again. “Don’t do anything stupid, boy, and you might make it through this intact.”

Most would have said ‘alive’. Using ‘intact’ instead was the man safeguarding himself. He couldn’t bring himself to promise Tim that he might make it through alive because he wasn’t sure that was an option. He could only promise that they wouldn’t seriously hurt him if he behaved. These men were definitely henchmen of some sort. They truly believed they had no control over the final outcome.

It also told Tim that he was definitely screwed. Whoever they were working with, the mouse-guy was wary of them. He wasn’t sure they weren’t just going to kill Tim no matter what else happened. He couldn’t even say that Tim would make it through intact with compliance without adding the word ‘might’. Whoever they were taking him to was either highly unstable or violent, or both. 

They made it to an old, but not fashionably so, car. A man wearing a rabbit mask was at the wheel. The head slowly turned to face Tim. His voice was also local, and his tone was slightly lecherous. “Well, your picture hardy does you justice, sweetie.”

Tim frowned. That hadn’t been a reaction he’d expected. At least some of these hired goons had their own issues beyond some unfortunate life choices. 

“Stuff it, rabbit. We ain’t out yet.” The hare warned his cohort and then turned Tim to face him. “Better you don’t hear anything on the way, kid.”

Tim saw the blow coming but he didn’t have any choice but to let the cane strike him. There were too many witnesses and too many other potential targets to get him to cooperate. He moved his head slightly -making sure it would look like he was flinching away- to ensure the heavy brass handle struck a slightly safer spot to take such a blow. There was a sharp, sickening pain. Then, his vision went out and he felt as if he were falling. He felt a pair of strong hands grab him, but couldn't focus or move.

Then there was only darkness.


	2. The Mad Hatter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hatter finds his Alice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the 'Jervis Tetch is Creepy AF' tag comes in. If you find it too creepy or disturbing, you can skip it. The following chapters go back to Tim's POV and should continue the story fine without this chapter. I just wanted to show the Hatter's process of delusion a little to help show why he's so dangerous and disturbing.

Jervis Tetch had initially considered taking the newest child as nothing more than a side job, a means to an end. The money from the job would keep him comfortable for a time, and he could use that time to focus on other endeavors. Such as finding his Alice.

Or building a new hypnotic device to get himself fully pardoned. He’d left the one he used to get himself out of Arkham back at the asylum. It would have drawn too much attention to take it with him. The job offer had come from the same source as the materials he’d used to build it, so he might even be able to get more from them when he handed the child over. Plus, he figured it was only fair to return the favor.

He’d seen the photo of the child that he sent his henchmen to retrieve. He’d thought it a trick of the light that made the boy look so young despite serving as CEO of Wayne Enterprises. He’d thought it was merely the angle that caused the boy to look small among the men and women who worked below him. He assumed it was a touch-up that made the boy’s eyes look so striking. The photo didn’t appear to be from any newspaper or magazine, but Jervis assumed it had been taken for such. That the lighting, angle, and coloring were all carefully chosen to emphasize the fact that Bruce Wayne had gotten himself a beautiful child prodigy. 

Then his henchmen returned with the child, knocked unconscious and draped easily over one of their shoulders. He saw that the child truly was that young and small. His fine, dark hair fell over his face and his fair, lean arms hung limply down the henchman’s back. 

Jervis brushed the child’s hair off his face and held it out of his eyes. They were closed, naturally, so he couldn’t tell if the eyes were also just as shown in the photo. Aside from the ugly bruise left by his henchmen, the child was beautiful. The child’s face was pale and perfect, not too gaunt or too full. The child’s jaw was smooth as porcelain. The child’s little nose was as perfect as a china doll’s.

Jervis felt a stirring. The gentle stroke of fate. His mysterious benefactor had sent him the perfect Alice. The rest had just been riddles.

“Where do you want us to put the kid?” The White Rabbit asked.

“In the dressing room, of course.” The Mad Hatter stroked the child’s cheek tenderly. “My Alice needs to get dressed for tea.”

The Rabbit and the March Hare exchanged looks that he didn’t bother trying to read. The Hare made as if to speak but was quietly silenced by the Rabbit. 

The Dormouse, who was carrying Alice, headed to the dressing room and laid the child on the ground carefully. Then he left, reminding the Hatter that they’d be outside should he need anything. 

He thanked the Dormouse absentmindedly. His focus was already on Alice. The gray slacks, dull shoes, and dress shirt just wouldn’t do for their tea party. 

Taking off the child’s shoes offered a surprise. Alice had lifts cleverly hidden inside them. Without the thick-soled shoes and lifts, the child was a good two inches shorter. The Mad Hatter understood being displeased with one’s height, and he felt a swell of sympathy that Alice clearly felt that way as well. It was something they had in common and could support one another with. 

It also meant that Alice was the perfect height to be the Mad Hatter’s dancing partner. He hoped the child would be as pleased by that as he was. Perhaps they could dance the quadrille after tea.

Humming to himself in delight, Mad Hatter took his good scissors and began cutting the child’s ill-suited shirt at the sleeve. Halfway through, he noticed that Alice’s skin turned fairer still. The shift was so stark that he took a closer look and found that Alice’s forearms, hands, face and neck had been painted a few shades darker. Like roses that had been planted the wrong color and had to be corrected. 

Except that Alice’s skin wasn’t wrong. It was beautiful. He couldn’t imagine why someone would cover it up. 

Speaking of covering up, as he watched, the child’s exposed skin started raising in goosebumps in the chilled room. Alice even shivered slightly in sleep. 

“Nothing a nice cup of tea won’t fix once you’re ready, Alice.” 

The Mad Hatter rubbed a sinewy arm to warm it until the flesh didn’t feel so chilled. Then he did the same with the other. The injury on the child’s face was turning a dark purple by then. The Mad Hatter frowned at the painful looking mark. The best he could do was kiss it better and then politely ignore it. So he did. 

He smiled and returned to his task of removing the child’s unbecoming clothes. As Alice’s shirt, undershirt, and pants were cut off, the Mad Hatter found more surprises still. 

Beneath the clothes, Alice’s pure white skin was marred by dozens of scars. 

Some looked deep, others were almost invisible unless one were very close. Some crossed over others, while some stood out on their own against a backdrop of flesh that was otherwise fine as freshly fallen now. The child’s body was like a beautiful teacup that had been abused over time and painstakingly repaired with each new crack or chip. Each scar was smooth enough, and only a few shades off from the child’s unblemished skin. It was almost as though they’d been sanded smooth and bleached to the silvery shade in an attempt to fix or erase them. 

Having tried a number of supposedly ‘desperate’ treatments for his own imperfections, the Mad Hatter completely understood and supported Alice’s attempts to feel whole and beautiful. 

“But you _are_ beautiful, my dear Alice. Once you’ve donned your dress and tights, these will all but disappear. I’ll kiss them better, one by one, and you’ll have no cause to shed a tear.”

He traced each scar with his fingertips and then kissed them all as promised. He placed an especially firm kiss on a scar that cut across Alice’s heart. 

That drew his attention to a thin chain around Alice’s pale, slender neck. It had hidden a delicate pendant under the child’s shirt that turned out to be an asplenia alert tag. The Mad Hatter assumed the injury was related to the child’s scars but decided it didn’t matter anymore. He briefly wondered who had harmed the child, but quickly decided that it didn’t matter either. 

Alice had left that world behind. The child would be safe with him in Wonderland.

There was one more concern regarding Alice. The Mad Hatter noticed it when he cut off the child’s underwear. He considered removing the unfortunate appendage as well. His scissors _were_ sharp and he was very talented with a needle and thread. However, the extra extremity was small and soft, it would be easy enough to tuck away once Alice’s tights were on. Once the child was properly dressed, it would disappear along with the scars. 

The child had remarkably little body hair; just a light sprinkling that was barely more than peach fuzz. The hairs present were unusually fine and so pale they were practically translucent. It looked as though they were bleached and thinned by Alice’s skin as they grew out from the smooth, pale flesh. The Mad Hatter briefly wondered if the same treatment that had caused the child’s scars to grow so smooth and silvery was the cause of the unusual body hair, but he quickly decided it didn’t matter either. The fine, practically invisible hairs wouldn’t be a problem. 

The Mad Hatter thought that children such as Alice shouldn’t be bothered with such superficial things anyway. 

He took Alice’s measurements. “Twice for good measure!” He laughed quietly at his own pun as he wrapped the measuring tape around various parts of the child’s body and checked it against his notes from the first time. 

Then he got to work on the child’s dress and pinafore. He was skilled enough with his foot peddled sewing machine and he knew Alice’s favorite patterns by heart. He had the child’s clothes complete in no time. 

The panties and tights were the trickiest part to get on. The extra nodes of flesh he’d considered before were carefully tucked away as successfully as he’d suspected but it did take some maneuvering. Making sure the tights didn’t bunch or tear while pulling them over limp limbs took time, careful adjustments, and steady hands but he put in the effort to do it right. Slipping on the dress was a simpler matter, he pulled Alice into a sitting position between his legs and braced the child against his chest as he pulled it on and buttoned up the back. Then he kept Alice in place as he tied the pinafore around the child’s narrow waist. Finally, he slipped on the delicate velvet shoes he’d made and tied back Alice’s hair with a matching band of the fabric. 

Then he stood back and looked over Alice’s resting form. 

The child looked perfect. 

He hoisted Alice over his shoulder as the Dormouse had done before. He took a moment to fix the child’s dress and appreciate the silky smoothness of the tights under his hands before carrying Alice to his tea party. The Dormouse and the Hare offered to help him with the child as he moved from one room to the next, but he refused. 

He placed Alice in a chair made especially for his guest of honor. He locked the shackles around pale wrists to keep the child in place. Then he adjusted Alice’s dress and hair. 

He took a moment to enjoy the smell of the child’s hair. It lightly scented by some shampoo he couldn’t name. He liked that it wasn’t an overly sweet or strong scent. It reminded him of the scent of a meadow after a thunderstorm. It was perfect for their garden tea party in Wonderland. 

He placed a hand on the child’s thigh. “Excuse me, my dear, but I need to get the sandwiches and crumpets ready. You just wait here. I’m sure your clever mind will come up with something to entertain yourself. Perhaps you’ll think of a lovely riddle!”

He gave Alice’s leg a gentle squeeze. “I promise, I’ll not be long.” With a sweet parting kiss, he returned to preparing their tea party.

He smiled as he began toiling away at his tea service. It would be a grand party. He and Alice would have so much fun together. Nothing would bother them in Wonderland. Nothing would harm them. There would just be tea and games and laughter and touches and…

The Mad Hatter shuddered in anticipation and got back to the task at hand.


	3. Red Robin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tim saves himself.

The first thing Tim felt upon regaining consciousness was pain. It started in his head and spread down, as though a migraine were trying to encompass his entire being. He also felt nauseous. He definitely had a concussion. A significant one at that.

He remembered the blow to his head. Unnecessarily savage. More than twice as much force as was needed to knock him out. The man in the hare mask was either unaware of how little force was needed to render someone unconscious, wasn’t used to measuring his own strength, or simply enjoyed the violence. Tim would have to be mindful of each possibility if he encountered the man again on his way out.

The next thing he was aware of was the cold. It was permeating him. He was shivering and couldn’t stop. His fingers and toes were growing numb. His testicles had retreated as much as physically possible and his nose was freezing. His jaw was tight and his skin goose-pimpled.

He always hated being cold. It was one of several reasons he’d been glad to adjust the Robin suit. He hadn’t wanted to insult Jason’s memory, he’d needed extra protection, and he’d wanted to keep warm during late patrols. He felt a spike of fear distantly at the reminder that even someone like Jason could meet their end after being kidnapped. Not to mention the reminder of their shared kidnapper… 

Instincts and training quickly kicked in. Tim pushed the fear down to deal with (or not) later. 

He slowed his breathing and his heart rate. He ignored the nausea. He didn’t let the pain or the cold show in his face, although he couldn't completely stop the shivering that had already taken hold in his body. He played possum. Pretending to still be unconscious would allow him to take in as much information as possible before his captors learned he was awake. 

He still didn’t know why he’d been taken. They obviously wanted Tim Wayne so it was probably about one of his fathers, most likely Bruce. Or, possibly, this was about Wayne Enterprises. The men who took him were clearly working for someone. He’d likely be finding out who that was soon. 

His wrists were bound to the chair he was in. Old shackles. Antiques. Strong, tough leather. No padding or lining to prevent it from biting into flesh. 

The chair was made of hard wood and felt sturdy. The feel under his arms suggested it was likely antique as well. The seat of the chair felt almost _too_ smooth and a strange, cooling sensation was encompassing Tim’s body from the waist down. It took him only a moment to realize he was wearing something that was causing the uncomfortable sensation. He was also feeling more of the cold on his arms and legs than he should. 

Something was tied around his head. Not a blindfold. More like the hair ties Cassandra used when she was practicing her dancing. Forcing his numbing toes to move proved that he wasn’t wearing the shoes he’d been wearing to work either. Those shoes were firm, sturdy, and they’d contained the lifts Tim always wore at work (or in public in general) to give him a couple extra inches over Red Robin. The ones he was wearing now were light and delicate. 

It all led to one clear deduction.

Someone had undressed and redressed him while he was unconscious.

That was bad for many reasons. 

The first to come to mind was that Tim had to keep himself covered at all times for a very good reason. His very skin was a security risk. The unnatural paleness from the Joker’s bleach was something he’d worked hard to keep hidden, as were the myriad of scars that spoke of years serving the city as a vigilante. Either alone could give away his identity if known to the wrong people. Together, they would make almost anyone question how someone like Tim Wayne ended up bleached and scarred. 

There was also no reason for the clothing change if his captors were just ransoming a CEO or a billionaire's adopted child. The most likely reason to do that were if Tim was being used as an implement of a more creative revenge. Alternatively, something might have gone wrong between the kidnapping at Wayne Tower and wherever he was at present. He needed to figure out where that was or escaping was going to be more difficult. 

He took another slow breath through his nose, trying to learn anything else he could about where he was through scent. 

The air even _smelled_ cold. Unnaturally so. Tim understood that he hadn’t been taken somewhere where it was freezing. The room was being cooled via a swamp cooler. 

It also smelled old and damp. He was pretty sure he was underground. Perhaps in a basement or one of the tunnels that ran under the city. Possibly somewhere in the old sewer cleaning system. He also smelled tea and crumpets. Nothing as good as Alfred’s, but not the cheap stuff from a box mix either. 

He heard someone approach and moving about. Fine china tinkled as they did so. A man was humming faintly, of and on, as if distracted. Ponchielli’s Dance of the Hours.

The man was preparing for low tea. Classic and whimsical, even in its simplicity. Complete with a costume for his ‘guest’. 

Tim could swear the voice in his head sounded like Jason as a single word entered his mind.

 _Crap_. 

He was being held by the Mad Hatter. 

He hadn’t even heard about Jervis Tetch being released or escaping. He wondered if it was just his typical bad luck that he was kidnapped by the Rogue pretty much right after the man got out of Arkham or if there was a deeper plot in play.

He needed more to go on if he was going to escape. He needed to open his eyes. He needed to play along with the lunatic that had kidnapped him long enough to figure out how to get himself out of this mess. He braced himself for the increase in pain and nausea that would accompany opening his eyes. 

Opening them slowly, he tried to ignore the additional pain and focus. As his eyes strained to adjust to the painful light, he could see his chest, abs, and lap. He was dressed as Lewis Carroll’s Alice. Right down to the tights and delicate Mary Jane slippers. He felt his stomach roll at both the increase in pain from his head _and_ at the realization that the Rogue had dressed him up. 

It made him return to his first concern at realizing his clothes had been changed. The Mad Hatter had seen him naked. He’d seen his scars. He’d seen his unnaturally pale skin and everything that came along with the bleaching that had caused it. Even if Tim got out of this alive and mostly unharmed, that was going to haunt him forever. No matter what the Rogue made of it, it was noteworthy; not something he’d dismiss from his mind or simply forget. 

If he talked to anyone else about it later -whether Tetch ran away for now and found some allies or whether he was returned to Arkham and spoke to another inmate or an employee- it could become a problem. His henchmen might have even seen Tim naked too, for all the boy knew. They could talk about it just as easily. And they weren’t insane, so there was no chance to simply dismiss the words as a lunatic rambling.

Tim and his family would have to get in front of it. They had to figure out how to explain his marred and bleached body. They’d always kept in mind a kidnapping incident from when Tim had been a small child, for just such an occasion. He’d been mostly unharmed then, but it had also been kept quiet by his birth parents, so no one really knew all the details. Tim hoped that would work, but he suspected it wouldn't. Too many nannies and school nurses had seen him since then. 

Bruce would probably want to throw his biological parents under the bus. Logical as that approach was, Tim would rather not do that. His parents hadn’t been the greatest but they didn’t deserve to have their hard work and reputations besmirched to protect a secret that had nothing to do with them. That meant he needed to come up with an alternative explanation for his scars that didn’t suggest he’d been a vigilante since before he’d been orphaned. 

He realized he was getting ahead of himself. 

He pushed the fear and concern aside. 

He needed to think. 

First, he needed to get out of his shackles. He needed to get out of this basement or sewer. If he didn’t survive this encounter, he wouldn't be part of that discussion anyway. There was no point in worrying about it yet. He had to escape before the Mad Hatter broke his neck or strangled him with some wire, as was his usual child-killing MO. 

_Then_ Tim could worry about keeping his and his family’s identities a secret. 

He’d been kidnapped as Tim Wayne this time, so he needed to make sure he reacted to the situation the way a Rogue might expect an arguably normal sixteen-year-old to and _not_ how a Robin would. That meant clearly being in pain, being visibly cold, and being obviously frightened. So he just had to let it all show enough for the Mad Hatter to be able to read it without letting go enough that he couldn’t think past what he was feeling. He could do that.

Tim took one last slow, calming breath. His mind needed to stay focused, no matter what his body was experiencing. He slowly stopped forcing his body to be so calm and still. He let his heartbeat pick up. He let himself shiver more forcefully. He released the pitiful groan he’d been holding in and let his eyes and nose scrunch in pain. 

Letting go was both harder and easier than he’d expected. 

As he slowly lifted his head, he closed his eyes tightly for a second and then carefully took in the room. He was sitting at a long table, set with dozens of beautiful tea pots, tea trays, and even more tea cups. Tapestries covered the walls, making it look like they were in a lovely English garden between a dark woods, a beautiful meadow, and a pretty cottage rather than the sewers. Tim knew that was where he was now, since the floor gave it away where the cobblestone-looking rug below the table ended. 

Two very important details struck him at once. One was that there were tiny tea sandwiches on a tray within reach of his right hand and the sandwiches had pretty party picks in them.

_Hello, lock-picks._

Step one just became a lot easier. 

The second thing he noticed was that the Mad Hatter was approaching him. Somehow, he always forgot how unsettling the man looked in person.

“Alice! I’m so delighted you could join me!”

A typical kidnapping victim likely would start asking the obvious questions immediately. Tim didn’t hide his fear as the man approached. “Where am I? What do you want with- Wait, you just called me Alice…” 

Tim hadn’t thought the man would have gone that deeply into his fantasy already, despite the dress and tea party. After all, the man had to contend with the (disturbingly obvious, considering he’d undressed him) fact that Tim was the wrong gender to be Alice. While the Hatter had showed a willingness to adjust Alice’s age for convenience, Tim was still slightly older than the Rogue usually preferred. There was also the fact that he’d been unconscious until now and therefore unable to act as a child. All in all, Tim wouldn’t have expected the Hatter to have fully committed to him as Alice quite yet.

That changed things. That made the Rogue more dangerous. That meant he was already in full ritual. That meant Tim wasn’t going to survive unless he embraced ‘Alice’ and got himself the hell out of there before the tea party ended and the after party started. That was when the man’s fantasy turned into a horror story that ended with a dead child.

“Why, you’re in Wonderland, dear child!” The Mad Hatter gestured around, looking for all the world like he truly believed they were in Wonderland. In his mind, everything probably looked a lot more impressive. “And of course I called you Alice. What has gotten into you, my dear? Are you quite yourself?” 

He looked at Tim with both childlike curiosity and adult longing, all tinted with madness. It was a frightening combination. His hand landed on one of the boy’s tight-clad thighs. Intimate and familiar, as if he wasn’t a predator with a kid strapped to a chair. 

Tim’s stomach rolled when the Rogue fondly stroked his skin through the sheer fabric. It rolled again when his muscles clenched and he realized the part of his anatomy that didn’t fit with the role he was meant to play had been neatly tucked away. That would have required some serious handling. Tim honestly wasn’t sure whether or not he should be grateful he’d been unconscious for that part. He felt his cheeks flush in shame and took deep breaths through his nose to quell that and his growing nausea as his head throbbed painfully in time with his heartbeat. 

_Focus. Need to focus._

He could feel terrified and humiliated and concussed and violated later. Right now, he needed to stay in survival mode. He needed to play along. He needed to get one step ahead of the Rogue. He could do a lot with the room granted by that one single step.

Tim vaguely recalled Alfred reading Alice in Wonderland to him when he’d been ill with the Apocalypse virus. He’d been bleeding through the eyes at the time which required him to wear a bandage that was essentially a blindfold as well. He’d also been pretty out of it. Still, he recalled a line that had struck him for some reason. 

He hoped it would be enough to get through this question before the Mad Hatter decided to hit the reset button and just get rid of him. Before the Rogue went off to find another Alice.

“I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, Sir, because I'm not myself, you see.”

The Mad Hatter’s eyes lit up in delight. His hand gained a firmer grip on Tim’s thigh.

Tim had to breathe through his nose to ensure he didn’t break the moment by vomiting. His concussion would have to wait though. For better or worse, he’d just committed to being the Mad Hatter’s Alice. Now he had to keep it up until the man was distracted. Then he could get out of his shackles and have a fighting chance. The trick would be to take that chance without giving away that he wasn’t just an average sixteen-year-old with an above average IQ. 

Sometimes he wondered how this became his life. He was pretty sure it was his own fault. He was also quite certain that he didn’t have time for that question at present.

“That happens quite often here, you know.” The Rogue stepped away, slowly retreating the hand from Tim’s thigh in the process, and turned to the nearest tea pot. “Have some more tea, my dear. It will make you feel right as rain.”

Tim took the tea and gave his thanks. He realized the reason for the almost unbearably cold room then. It wasn’t just to allow the Mad Hatter to wear his costume comfortably or hide the stench of the sewers. It was to make the hot, steaming cup of tea far more appealing. If he didn’t know of the Mad Hatter’s penchant for pharmaceutical or narcotized teas, Tim would have been very tempted to drink it despite the circumstances. 

As it was, he faked taking a small sip, as if testing the temperature and flavor. 

The shackles barely had enough chain for Tim to reach the table to put the offered cup on the saucer in front of him. He felt the thick, unforgiving leather scraping his skin as he did so. It would be worse when he went for the sandwich picks, but he was sure he’d be able to reach. 

_If_ he could get the Mad Hatter to look away long enough. Tim spied a honey jar further down the table. “Its lovely, thank you. I’ve always enjoyed my oolong with honey. Do you happen to have some?”

“Of course, my dear.” The Mad Hatter smiled down at him like they were great friends enjoying an afternoon tea together. Then the lunatic turned away to get the honey. 

Tim reached forward, ignoring the unforgiving shackles biting into his wrists, and moved two of the tiny sandwiches to his plate, snagging the picks in the process. He quickly tucked them in between the shackles and his wrists before the Mad Hatter turned back to him.

“Here we go, my dear.” The Rogue stood far closer than necessary as he began dispersing honey into Tim’s cup. “Just say when!” He smiled as though he weren’t looming over a child he had kidnapped and chained to a chair. 

Of course, to his mind, he wasn’t. He was the Mad Hatter, talking to his good friend Alice.

It was a large part of why dealing with the insane Rogues was so exhausting. Bane, Catwoman, or The Penguin would try to kill him just as readily as the Mad Hatter, Joker, or The Riddler, but they wouldn’t make him play any games in the process. It was a straightforward fight with clear reasoning on either side. 

Tim waited all of two seconds before speaking. He didn’t like the deranged Rogue that close to him. “When.” 

“Why, when the tea’s as sweet as you, of course!” The Mad Hatter giggled in delight, but he stopped dripping honey into the cup as well. 

Tim forced out a small sound of amusement. He needed to think of something else to get the man to turn away again so he could pick at least one of the locks. He made sure to keep an eye on the Rogue, even while glancing over the table for ideas. To cover up the glances, he decided to comment on the setting. “This is a lovely tea party. You really outdid yourself.”

Tim had to fight the urge to glare (then vomit) when the Mad Hatter put his hand on his thigh again. “Thank you, Alice. We can have one everyday, now that you’re here with me!”

Tim swallowed the bile building in his throat. “That would be wonderful.” He considered that he hadn’t seen the henchmen since he’d woken up. Whether they were coming or not would really change his method of escape. “Is all of this just for the two of us?”

“For now, my dear. The March Hare and the Dormouse might join us later. Just now, they’re attending to some business with the White Rabbit.” The Mad Hatter offered Tim another smile and a slightly firmer grip on his thigh before letting go and pouring himself a cup of tea. “So its just the two of us for a good long while!”

As much as he didn’t like being alone with the Rogue, distracting one person in order to pick the locks on his shackles would be a lot easier than trying to escape under the noses of three or four people. That meant he needed to keep it just him and the Mad Hatter for as long as possible. 

He attempted a smile but knew it looked more like a grimace. He just hoped the Rogue was too far gone into his fantasy to tell the difference. “I think I prefer it that way. Not that they aren’t lovely, of course. I simply enjoy your company the best.”

Sure enough, the Mad Hatter fell for the obvious lie. He smiled brightly. “Oh, my dear, you flatter me! I am so glad you were able to join me today. I do enjoy your company as well.”

Tim had to fight the urge to gag again. He pretended to take another sip of tea to hide it. He hands were trembling more from the cold now. A little more tea than he’d intended splashed against his closed lips. It made its way down his chin. He couldn’t quite reach his face with his bound hands without spilling the hot tea and there was no way he was licking it off. 

He wasn’t sure how the Mad Hatter would react to him being burned or his dress being stained and he didn’t want to find out.

He moved a saucer to catch the first drip. “I’m sorry, c-could I bother you for a napkin? I don’t want to make a mess of my pretty dress.” He recalled that Alice had an older sister in the story. He attempted to use that to cover his concern. “My sister would be very cross with me.”

The Rogue accepted the explanation. He even offered a look of sympathy. “Of course, my dear. Silly me! I should have put them out from the start.” The Mad Hatter stood as he answered, and made his way to a butler’s tray in the corner of the room. 

He complimented Tim on his dress as he did so. As if he hadn’t been the one to select it for the boy to wear. “It _is_ a rather fetching dress. But then you always look so lovely, my dear Alice!”

As soon as his back had turned, Tim set down the tea cup, slipped the sandwich picks from under one of his shackles, and started picking the lock. He adjusted the saucer to block what he was doing as best he could with his other hand. 

Tim hated to admit it, but he’d found some of the training exercises Bruce arranged to be a little _excessive_ , back when the man was preparing him to become his new Robin. Tim had still given them everything he had. He’d learned everything Bruce wanted him to. He’d thought Bruce was just being extra cautious because of Jason and he’d understood that need for attentiveness. As he started to own the R though, he’d come to appreciate the amount of work Bruce, Dick, and his other (arguably less sane) teachers had put into him. 

He was especially glad for one of those questionable training exercises now. It meant he already knew how to pick a lock one-handed while said hand was bound due to the lock that needed picking. He didn’t even have to look at it while he worked. Instead, he kept his eyes on the Mad Hatter. He was able to pick one lock at least, and stash his picks, before the Rogue turned to approach him. 

“Here you go, dear Alice. Just allow me.” The Mad Hatter dabbed the napkin on Tim’s chin and lips. He smiled at him afterwards, looking at his lips in a way that one normally looked at a delectable dessert. “There. You’re as pretty as a picture.”

“T-Thank you.” Tim took a silent breath. Giving away how cold or hurt or afraid he was at present was a bad idea. Alice wasn’t supposed to be cold or injured. She wasn’t supposed to be afraid of the Mad Hatter. If he wasn’t Alice, then the Rogue had no reason to keep him alive. 

The Mad Hatter continued to watch him with more intensity than was warranted for the moment. “May I ask you something, Alice?”

Tim hoped his “Yes” didn’t sound like the ‘no’ his mind was screaming at him.

The Mad Hatter traced the edge of Tim’s lips with a fingertip. He looked at him seriously. “What is an eight letter word that has kst in the middle, in the beginning, and at the end?”

Tim was honestly considering hitting the Rogue with the saucer in his hand and taking his chances from there. But he still had one hand fully shackled and the other bound even if the shackle was unlocked. The Mad Hatter was standing right over him and had at least three henchmen possibly nearby. The odds of him simply fighting his way out with no gear and a serious concussion were bad. It would be too risky.

Plus, Tim Wayne shouldn’t know how to incapacitate someone with a fine saucer.

_Priorities._

Instead, he held the man’s gaze and tried not to give away any fear or make any move. He simply answered the riddle. “Inkstand.”

The Mad Hatter laughed in delight. “Yes! That’s it. You are always so good at riddles, my dear.” He leaned down until his smiling face was beside Tim’s. The boy forced himself to look straight ahead, even if he was acutely aware of the Rogue’s movement. The Mad Hatter’s nose brushed his hair and he inhaled deeply as he slowly took the saucer from Tim’s hand. 

The Rogue straightened and put it back on the table. He stood still like that, with his back mostly facing Tim, for a moment. 

Tim assumed he was forcing the friendly, more book-accurate Mad Hatter persona back into place after having let it slip. He remained silent. That persona was frighting and holding him prisoner, but he simply wanted to play games and have a whimsical tea party. The other part, the one that came later, the one he was holding back to make his fun last, was all the more frightening. That one wanted more than tea and games. That one had killed numerous people, including children.

That one, Tim might not survive. 

Suddenly, the Mad Hatter began speaking as he stepped away. “Many-manned scud-thumper, Maker of worn wood, Shrub-ruster, Sky-mocker, Rave! Portly pusher, Wind-slave.” He suddenly turned, bright eyed and cheerful, back to Tim. “What am I?”

 _Certifiable._

That was the first thing to come to mind. It was followed immediately by another description.

 _Utterly frightening._

Tim wisely voiced neither. He’d just been granted more time. He wasn’t going to throw it away. He tried to consider the Rogue’s words from a more innocent perspective than the fearful situation provided. “The ocean?”

His lips were tingling where the tea had touched them. There was certainly something in it. If he drank it, he’d be lethargic and open to suggestion, per the Rogue’s usual MO when kidnapping someone who might stand a fighting chance. He’d possibly be open to the idea he _was_ Alice. He might even be open to the idea that he wanted what the Rogue intended to do to him later. The Mad Hatter was likely waiting for that.

He’d notice if it took too long to come.

That meant Tim had time, but it was more limited then he’d first realized. 

“Precisely!” The Mad Hatter clapped happily as he returned to his seat. “Oh, but how rude of me, hogging all the fun!” He smiled gaily at Tim. “Why don’t you take a turn, Alice?”

Making a riddle up on the spot would take more concentration than Tim wanted to devote to it, since he was still considering ways to distract the Mad Hatter and also coming up with escape options for once he was free of the shackles. At the same time, he couldn’t recite one the Rogue was likely to be familiar with. He recalled one he’d read in school a few years before he’d become Robin. 

“When I'm used, I'm useless, once offered, soon rejected. In desperation oft expressed, the intended not protected. What am I?”

“Ooh, clever child, that _is_ a good one!” The Mad Hatter dipped his tea infuser idly as he pondered it, looking without seeing as he thought.

Tim imperceptibly slipped his picks out again and started working on the remaining lock as quietly as he could, making sure to keep his hands below the table in the Rogue’s line of sight. He kept a careful eye on the Mad Hatter, doing his best to look like he was simply interested in his riddle solving skills.

The Rogue was mumbling quietly as he pondered the riddle. “Useless when used… Rejected when offered… Oft expressed in desperation… Intended not protected…”

Tim got the picks in place, but took a moment to calculate how long it would take the Rogue to respond should he hear the lock release over his mumbling. He wasn’t speaking at normal volume, as he had been before he got the napkin, and he was considerably closer.

“Ah-ha!” The Rogue slapped hand on the table. Tim immediately stopped picking the lock, ready to hide the sandwich picks away should the Mad Hatter stand or lean forward too much. “The answer is: a poor excuse.”

Tim forced another grimace-smile onto his face. “That’s it exactly.” He needed to focus. “Your turn again. How about an especially tricky one? You’re always so clever with those.”

The Mad Hatter beamed and looked practically cocky. “Thank you, my dear. Let’s see… An especially tricky one… Oh! I have it.” He cleared his throat and recited the riddle in a deep, melodious tone.

“If you like pretty gems that sparkle and shine, I invite you to dig in my virtual mine. My first is purple, fit for a king, My second is green where Dorothy did her thing. My third is red, July's birthstone as well, My fourth is seen in strings and is found inside a shell. My fifth is hard, pure Carbon and expensive to buy, My sixth is Crocodolite, striped like the big cat's eye. Seventh is two words, a man-made fake of April's stone, Eighth is very dark and found at Lightning Ridge alone. Now take from each gem, one letter in its turn, And you will find the stuff for which even the god's yearn.”

Tim found that his mind was a little muddled. Some of the tea must have seeped in when he pretended to drink. He was still able to focus, but it was slightly harder to concentrate on his behavior, the riddle, and the lock he was trying to pick.

He could figure out the gems easily enough: amethyst; emerald; ruby; pearl; diamond; tiger's eye; cubic zirconium; black opal. Taking the first letter of Amethyst, second of Emerald, third of ruby and so on in turn, he was able to find the answer just as he turned the lock. It was good thing too, because one of the picks broke in the process.

He had the presence of mind to answer as the lock released so his own voice would hide the sound. If he spoke perhaps slightly louder than before, he knew the Mad Hatter would mistake it for enthusiasm. “Ambrosia. The food of the gods.” 

Tim bit his lips. They were starting to feel numb again after the tea had warmed them temporarily. His fingers and toes were also still numb from the cold. He was still trembling, so that was a good sign. However, his head hurt terribly now and his stomach was protesting any time he so much as moved his eyes. Between that and the fuzziness in his head, he had to make his move soon while he still could. 

If he could get the Mad Hatter to turn away, he could get him into a sleeper hold without the Rogue even being aware that he’d picked the locks. He wasn’t sure how likely it was, but if it was at all possible to get out of this while hiding as much of his skill-set as possible, he needed to try. His family’s secret needed to be kept at all costs, he knew. 

He’d spied a tray of tiny tea cakes further down the table earlier. No doubt the Mad Hatter intended to move down at some point. He decided to try getting the Rogue to move in that direction sooner. “Hmm, that makes me want something sweet. Do we have anything like that?”

“Why, yes we do and what a splendid idea!” The Mad Hatter stood and began heading down the table, toward the cakes. “We have some nice cakes, and crumpets with honey or jam and clotted cream.”

Tim watched the Rogue as he quietly freed himself from the shackles, ignoring the stinging in his wrists as he did so. He would only have one shot to do this without making enough noise to draw the Rogue’s henchmen if they were outside. He slipped out of the chair silently and climbed onto the table. Then, he ran for all he was worth. Fortunately, the delicate shoes placed on his feet were as silent as his jika-tabi boots. He was able to move quietly as a ghost.

“-And some scones, of course. Do you still prefer-” The Mad Hatter’s words were cut off as Tim launched himself off of the table and onto his back. 

He managed to lock an arm around the Rogue’s neck and adjust the grip into a firm sleeper hold. He had to use his legs to hold on, which he found a little more difficult than usual due to the slipperiness of the tights. He vaguely wondered if Dick or Jason ever had to do anything like this during their tight-wearing days. He quickly forced himself to focus as the Mad Hatter punched one of his thighs after not being able to get a good enough grip to throw him off due to the angle and aforementioned tights. 

The Rogue turned and moved backwards as quickly as possible. Tim braced himself for impact as he was driven into the table. A fist struck the boy in his side, but the awkward angle prevented the Mad Hatter from putting his full force behind the blow and Tim had taken much worse hits. He didn’t release his hold. 

The Mad Hatter slammed him into the table again. Some tea must have spilled because Tim’s side was burned by the hot liquid as it seeped through his dress. Then the Hatter slammed him into a wall. He struck and pinched any part of Tim he could reach. 

Still, Tim held on. 

After a long moment, the Rogue started hitting with considerably less accuracy and force. Then he stumbled. Then he fell. The air was forced out of Tim’s lungs as the Rogue landed on top of him, but he knew better than to release yet.

Finally, just a moment after, the Mad Hatter lost consciousness. 

Tim pushed the man off him and stood. Then he paused, shivering silently in the cold, quiet room. He listened for any sign that the struggle had drawn the attention of the Mad Hatter’s henchmen. He couldn’t hear any voices or footsteps approaching. He stood and took a second to get his numbing feet to comply so he could move again. He grabbed the first thing in reach that might serve as a weapon, which happened to be a butter spreader. 

Then he looked around for something he could use to contain the Mad Hatter. He wasn’t wearing his Red Robin suit, so he had no comms. His phone had fallen when he’d dodged the gunfire at the door at Wayne Enterprises. It was going to take a lot longer than usual to get the GCPD down there. Tim didn’t want the Rogue to wake up and walk off where he could capture another child. 

There were some old fashioned ties on one of the tapestries. The kind that were basically fancy, short ropes. A quick inspection told Tim they should hold the Rogue. He quickly tied the Mad Hatter’s hands behind his back and bound his ankles together. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do until the authorities arrived.

Once that task was done, Tim crept up to the door, listening intently. He still couldn't hear any signs of the henchmen who had brought him there. Unsurprisingly, the door had an old fashioned keyhole like Lewis Carroll’s story. Tim knelt down to peer through it. He couldn’t see the henchmen. 

He slowly opened the door and peeked out. He could smell the sewer properly now, as well as another scent that made his stomach roll again, mainly for what he knew it meant. Someone or something had died down there in the sewers. He could also hear the henchmen, they were talking further down the hall. It sounded like they’d misinterpreted what they’d heard before and moved down to avoid having to listen to it before the nature of the sounds became unavoidable. 

Tim’s nose scrunched in disgust at the men. He knew they weren’t nice guys from the start, but to move down the hall to avoid being disturbed by the sounds of a child being murdered was sick even by the usual henchmen standards. Still, their immorality provided him with the opportunity to either find another way out or at least arm himself better. He’d take that opportunity. 

He spied another door that had clearly been in use recently. If the Mad Hatter had been using that room, there might be something in there Tim could use to fight with or even a phone. There also might be proof of what the Rogue had been doing prior to kidnapping Tim. The boy quietly made his way into that room, closing the door until he heard a faint squeak and then leaving it. It was only slightly ajar, not enough for the henchmen to see him inside but plenty enough for him to hear them approach if they came to investigate.

The scent that had struck him before was stronger in the room. Tim quickly found the source. A pair of bodies piled in the corner. Two young girls, dressed like Lewis Carroll’s Alice. 

He knelt before them, intending to check for any signs of life, but he quickly saw that they were too far gone to help. They had both been visibly strangled with something thing and long, likely the Rogue’s preferred wire. 

Tim had been called a natural detective on more than one occasion and by more than one person. He supposed that was why his mind insisted on picking up information even when he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers it was piecing together. In addition to the strangulation marks, there were other little signs of what their last moments had entailed. It was all terrible. 

The girl on top had blonde hair and blue eyes. Tim would guess she was around ten years old. She been dead only a matter of a day or two at the most. She had scratched herself in multiple places around the mark left from the wire, showing she’d tried in vain to remove it as she was strangled. There was a bloodstain near the center of her dress-skirt and her tights were hanging off her thin, pale legs in bloodstained shreds. 

The other girl had dark hair and green eyes. She looked around twelve. She’d been dead for a couple days longer. Her fingertips were raw and bloody but her neck only showed marks from the Hatter. She’d probably tried to pull herself away from her murderer. Her dress was also bloodstained and her pinafore was torn. She was missing a shoe. 

Neither girl had been nearly strong enough to fight the Rogue. Never mind if they’d drank the tea. They never stood a chance. 

Tim immediately felt terrible. He hadn’t even known the Mad Hatter was loose and two children had already been violently murdered. He was supposed to be preventing atrocities like that from happening. He had several networks in place to keep him abreast of such situations. He had years of training. 

And still, he’d failed those girls. 

“I’m so sorry.” The words were barely a whisper passing through his cold, numb lips. Even if the girls had been alive, they’d likely not have heard him. 

After a long, sad moment, Tim took a breath, fought his rolling stomach once more, and stood. 

He wouldn’t do those girls or anyone else any good if he didn’t get out of there. 

With the sole thought of escaping to send justice back in his stead, he looked over the room again. He saw an old coat rack. It was uneven and missing a hook, but it looked solid. It wasn’t too heavy to wield, but strong enough to cause some damage if he had to fight his way out. The remaining hooks were loose enough for him to break off. 

He couldn’t save those girls, but he would see that their murderer and his cohorts faced justice for them. He would give their families and friends whatever peace that could offer. It was all he could do for them.


	4. The Red Hood, The Commissioner, and The Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tim remembers he's not alone.

Tim heard a short commotion in the hall just as he was taking in the weight and measure of his makeshift weapon. 

When it was done, the henchmen weren’t talking anymore. That could either be a very good sign or a very bad one.

Tim moved so he wouldn’t be seen by anyone approaching the room and gripped his makeshift staff. He listened as someone approached. Someone large and angry. Someone wearing heavy boots and strong leather. The door was kicked wide open and Tim leaped into action, swinging the coat rack toward the large man’s head. 

And pulling it to stop short as he recognized the sound of his big brother breathing through his helmet and the glint of his Jericho 941s as he aimed them at Tim. 

Both Tim and Jason stood still for a second -as if ensuring what they were seeing was real and not just what they wanted to see- before they both lowered their weapons. 

Jason was the first to speak. “Tim, you ok-kaayy…what the hell are you wearing?”

Tim couldn’t say if it was the shock of everything or simply whatever the Mad Hatter had laced his tea with, but he found himself feeling completely numb for a moment. He looked Jason over. His big brother looked fine. His stance spoke of anger. His breathing suggested he was stressed. 

But he looked okay. 

Tim realized his big brother was still waiting for an answer. That he probably wanted an explanation for more than just the clothes he was wearing. Tim pointed further into the room. While he was known for shooting first in most cases, Jason was a very skilled detective. He’d catch on to most of what had happened just by looking at the Mad Hatter’s space. 

Sure enough, Jason looked where Tim indicated. He took in the Hatter’s workstation and the dead children. He remained silent for a moment. Not asking any more questions. 

Tim had one though. His voice was tight when he spoke. He felt tired, disgusted, guilty, and very sad. “How long has he been out?” 

He knew Jason hadn’t known beforehand, or he would have told him. He thought perhaps his big brother had learned the answer after he’d been kidnapped. Clearly, he found out where Tim was being held somehow.

His big brother shook his head. His voice matched the disgust Tim felt. “Too long.”

Jason’s attention turned to Tim. After a short moment, he took his jacket off and draped it over Tim’s shoulders. Jason’s breath caught slightly when he made contact with his little brother and he pulled the jacket closed around him. Tim wondered if that meant he felt as cold on the outside as he did on the inside. 

Jason’s jacket helped anyway.

His big brother asked one simple question. “Where is he?”

Tim told him. He told him he’d knocked the man out and how. He used brief sentences. His brain didn’t want to go over any details again yet. His body was starting to shut down now that he knew he was safe with his big brother. He was trying to fight it, but found it harder now that his fight or flight instincts were settling down.

He was looking at the little girls again. Noticing even more sickening details. Piecing together their last moments of life. He knew it wouldn’t help anything. It was too late to help them and the Mad Hatter was already tied up to be returned to Arkham. Hopefully, he’d stay there this time. Hopefully, those girls would be his last victims.

Tim was finding it harder to hold onto such hopes these days. After all, nothing felt like it ever really ended. Everything just kept coming back. 

Criminals. Rogues. Fears. Sorrow. Inferiority. None of it seemed to stay gone for long, even when Tim thought they’d been put away for good.

“Come on.” Jason broke Tim from his thoughts and motioned him out of the room. He also closed the door behind them. Then he got his little brother’s attention again. “I knocked out three henchmen over there. Any more around?”

As far as Tim knew, that was it. He wasn’t willing to bet his big brother’s safety on it though. He knew Jason would try to protect him at the first sign of trouble now, and he wasn’t in the best position to have his back in return. Fortunately, the three henchmen he’d seen had looked very distinct. “I’ve only seen the White Rabbit, the March Hare, and the Dormouse.”

Jason nodded. He held one of his spare firearm’s, which had a taser attachment on it, toward Tim. Then, he motioned toward three unconscious henchmen. “Wait here. Keep an eye on them.”

They were the three Tim had seen before. He pulled the jacket on properly, accepting the comfort and warmth from his big brother’s residual body heat, and took the taser. Looking over the henchmen without approaching, he could see that two had been taken down by the taser he now held. The third, the one who had knocked him out, didn’t show any signs of having been electrocuted. His mask was askew, as if he’d been struck violently. Knowing the way Jason punched, Tim wouldn’t be surprised if the man had a broken jaw or worse.

Jason waited a moment, watching Tim, before heading for the tea room. Tim figured it was smart to check up on the Rogue. He was pretty sure he’d mentioned tying the Rogue’s hands and feet when he told Jason he’d knocked him out. But then, with how numb and shaky he was, it was probably a good idea that his big brother double check. They couldn’t let the Mad Hatter get away. Not with what he was capable of.

Tim didn’t want his henchmen to get away either. While they were likely to remain unconscious longer than the Mad Hatter, there wasn’t any guarantee they would remain out for the time it took the GCPD to arrive. Thinking quickly and forcing his body to move despite the cold, the laced tea, and his concussion, Tim darted back into he room he and Jason had just exited. 

He purposely forced himself not to look at the dead girls again. Instead, he pulled on Jason’s spare gloves that were in the jacket pocket as he moved purposely toward the other corner. The one with the Mad Hatters dress making supplies. He took out some of the fabric from a large roll, and grabbed a pair of sharp looking scissors. Then he cut several strips he could use to tie up the henchmen. 

He had to take the gloves off again to tighten the knots after he’d secured them. They’d been warm, but they were too big for him to use his fingers properly. He stuffed them in his pocket and got to work. He intended to put them back on once the henchmen were secure, but as he stood after tightening the last knot, he heard a gunshot ring out from the room Jason and the Rogue were in. 

Tim was running toward his big brother before he even registered making the decision to move. 

He skidded to a stop when he heard the Mad Hatter gasp out what might have been words or simply an attempt at them. He started to move again, but the door opened.

Jason almost walked into him. Tim scanned his big brother for any sign of injury. “Are you okay?” He felt relieved when he didn’t find anything wrong and when Jason assured him he was fine. He knew how capable his big brother was, but he’d still been worried that something had happened to make him have to open fire. “What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re okay and he isn’t gonna hurt anyone else now.” Jason put a hand against Tim’s back and started guiding him down the hall. 

Tim allowed it without protest. He trusted Jason. 

He also wanted to go with his big brother. He wanted to go home. He wanted to send Gordon to take the Mad Hatter away. He wanted the families of the girls to be able to grieve and feel some sense of justice. He wanted to find out what had happened. He wanted to know how they had missed one of Arkham’s residents being on the prowl.

Jason’s hand rubbed his back lightly through the jacket. “Let’s get out of here. Alfred and Lucius are waiting to hear you’re okay.”

Tim’s kidnapping had been public, so they couldn’t just give Gordon the Rogue’s location and head home. Tim would have to talk to the police and be processed as a kidnapping victim. He’d need to give them the clothes he was wearing. He’d need to let them take fingernail scrapings and photos of the bruise that was undoubtedly covering his temple. He’d need to tell Gordon and complete strangers what had happened, or rather, a public friendly version of it. He’d need to refuse a medical exam without giving away the real reason he couldn’t allow it. 

He wasn’t looking forward to any of that, but it was unavoidable. 

He was glad to leave the sewers behind though. Even more glad for the feeling of swinging through the air on a grapple and the warmth of his big brother as they moved through the city, away from the cold room in the sewers. Tim made Jason take his jacket back as soon as they hit the roof of the GCPD. They were always careful with their gear and their DNA and fingerprints had been removed from any databases once they’d become Robin. Still, he didn’t want any officers taking Red Hood’s jacket from him and potentially learning anything about his big brother’s identity. 

Despite the fact that he’d been working a lot smarter (and with significantly less fatalities) lately, the first officers on the roof trained their guns on Red Hood as soon as they laid eyes on him. Tim immediately stepped into their line of fire. Eventually, they stopped barking out orders for him to move long enough to hear him stating that Red Hood had saved him. They lowered their weapons so as not to shoot the underage civilian, but didn’t seem to know what to make of that statement.

Fortunately, Gordon arrived on the roof then. He ordered his men to stand down and only spared a short, mistrustful glance at Red Hood before checking to see if Tim was okay. 

Once they’d established that he more or less was alright, Jason told Gordon where he could find the missing girls and Jarvis Tetch. “Your guys better hurry if you want him alive, but I wouldn’t blame you if you took your time.”

Gordon thanked Red Hood and suggested he get out of there before he changed his mind about arresting him.

Jason gestured toward Tim. “Just make sure the kid’s okay. And keep the press from seeing him like this. He’s had a bad enough day as it is.”

Tim was touched that his big brother had thought to try to protect him from any further humiliation.

Gordon assured Jason that he would, and he offered his trench coat to Tim. It was too big, actually touching the floor, and smelled faintly of cigarettes, but Tim meant it when he thanked the kind man.

Thanking Gordon gave Tim an idea. He quickly turned and called out “Thank you” to Jason before he could fire his grappling gun. When his brother -the Red Hood- turned to look at him, he added, quite sincerely, “For saving me.”

“Sure thing, kid.” Tim could hear the smile in Jason’s voice as he responded. At the same time, he fired a grappling and got out of there.

They both knew the next time Gordon encountered Red Hood, regardless of the fact that he was a known criminal, he wouldn’t be able to help but think of that exchange between victim and rescuer now. Thinking of him saving a child would cause Gordon to offer Red Hood the same wary consideration he’d given Batman at the start. Eventually, the honorable man would see Red Hood for what he was; a hero fighting to protect the people of Gotham in a manner the rest of them couldn’t. He would grow to respect him and learn to work with him.

Tim’s brother deserved that consideration. He deserved their respect as much as Batman did. Tim hoped he’d get it one day. He’d already earned it, as far as Tim was concerned.

“Come on, son. Let’s get you inside.” Gordon’s hand hovered by Tim’s shoulder. Clearly, he was uncertain as to whether the boy would appreciate being touched or grabbed after his kidnapping. “We’ll get that bruise looked at and find you something more comfortable to wear.”

Tim appreciated the gesture as the full distaste of what had happened started to press upon him. 

There was something he wanted, but he hesitated to make his request. He knew Bruce was likely busy. He knew the man had to play father to him more than he wanted. He also knew Bruce would want to hear the gist of what had happened, as well as what Gordon had been told. And he didn’t want to have to go over everything multiple times. 

He looked up at Gordon. “Can someone call m- Can someone call Bruce Wayne?” He didn’t want to be rude to the kind man, so he quickly added, “Please?” 

Gordon looked like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug Tim or go find someone to punch. Tim wasn’t sure what he looked like to get that reaction, but he appreciated the man’s verbal response. “Of course. I’ll call him myself.”

Gordon brought Tim to what looked like an unused office. He ordered someone to find something for the boy to wear and to get an EMT in there ASAP. Then, he stepped into the hall to call Bruce. The EMTs arrived shortly afterwards.

Tim allowed the EMTs to look at his head and wrists. He politely refused to undress in front of them or show them anything under the dress. One of the EMTs accepted that respectfully and simply stated that she wanted to clean and wrap Tim’s wrists, which he allowed. The other tried to press Tim to let him perform a more thorough exam but was interrupted by his coworker.

“Dammit, Gaspar, the kid’s been through enough. Let him have his dignity.” The woman fixed the man with a firm look. Her body language suggested she wasn’t going to budge. The man, Gaspar, looked as though he were going to argue, but hesitated at the sight of her.

Once again, Gordon’s entrance cut through the tension. He motioned toward Tim’s head and bandaged wrists. “Does he need to head to the hospital right now?”

“No.” Tim answered. He’d already had at least one person see the evidence of his secret life that day. He didn’t need anyone else asking questions. “I don’t need a hospital. I’m okay.”

Gordon looked at the EMTs with raised brows. 

“He has a serious concussion.” The woman who had respected Tim’s wishes earlier answered. He noted that her name badge read Jana Otieno. “We were only able to give a cursory exam, but we found nothing to suggest he needs emergency care. If his father’s willing to sign a-”

“I’m emancipated, Ms Otieno.” Tim cut in, not unkindly. “I’ll sign the waver or whatever you need.”

Otieno looked at Gordon as if to confirm. Once the Commissioner nodded, the woman frowned. “There’s no reason to say he isn’t sound enough to make the call. I’ll get the forms.” She looked at Tim with concern. “You’re sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

Tim would have nodded, but his head hurt too much and both Jason and Conner had worried over that when he’d been concussed after the Joker had kidnapped him. He didn’t want to think about that. Not then. Not _ever_ , really. 

He did his best not to show that he was in as much pain as he was feeling. “I am. Thank you.”

Her expression became pointed. “If you start to feel any worse…dizzy spells; vomiting; spotty vision; increased pain; then you need to go to the hospital.”

“I’ll contact my physician if anything gets worse.” It was the most Tim could promise. There was no way he was going to a hospital if it could be at all avoided and, with his family, it could almost certainly be avoided. “Thank you for the concern.” 

Otieno looked resigned. “Okay. Just…don’t do anything strenuous for the next couple of weeks. Alright?” Her voice was firm even as she tried to make it sound like a request rather than an adult giving a child an order.

“I won’t.” He’d try not to, anyway. While he wasn’t as cautious with his well-being as he knew most were, Tim wasn’t going to do anything that might make him a liability to his family or the people he was trying to protect.

Otieno sighed. “That’s one hell of a poker face you got, kid.” She stood. “I’ll get those forms.”

“Thank you, Jana.” Gordon spoke a little louder and looked at the other officers in or near the room. “Now if everyone would clear out, I’m sure young Mr Wayne doesn’t want an audience.”

Taking the unsubtle hint, the others left. Gordon was holding a large brown evidence bag and a folded jumpsuit. He glanced down at the dress before meeting Tim’s eyes. “I assume those clothes are Tetch’s work?”

“Yeah. I woke up like this.” Tim could feel his cheeks heating with shame as he made the comment. 

Gordon simply nodded. “Alright. I’m sorry, but I’m going to need all of it for evidence.” He sounded calm and patient. 

He motioned toward the door. “Why don’t I just step outside so you can change? Put everything you’re wearing now in the bag. The jumpsuit’s probably going to be a little big. I’m sorry, but we don’t have any available in your size.”

“That’s okay.” Tim still bought most of his suits from the boys department. He was actually a little relieved to think that the GCPD didn’t have to hold enough children to carry jumpsuits in youth sizes. 

Tim glanced at the office door. It had a little window with damaged blinds that meant it was always possible to look inside. He would have to change quickly. 

“I’ll just be outside then. Call me when you’re done.” Gordon stepped outside, closing the door behind him. Rather than walk away to attend some other business, he stood in front of the office, blocking the view through the window. 

Tim appreciated the privacy. He still changed as quickly as he could. He wanted out of the Alice costume. More of his injuries were making themselves known. He took stock of himself as he changed. Nothing was seriously damaged. His head was the worst of his injuries and he’d had worse. He could always go to Alfred or Dr Thompkins if he started feeling worse later. 

The jumpsuit was, indeed, a little too big. Tim had to roll up the sleeves and the neckline exposed more than he was used to lately, but it wasn’t too bad. Fortunately, he always took the airbrushing that covered his bleached skin a little further than would be exposed, just in case his clothing shifted. That meant the line where the makeup stopped still wasn’t visible. The jumpsuit was a marked improvement over the Alice costume, at any rate. 

Gordon came in and sat down once Tim let him know he was finished. The EMT -Otieno- came in as well with an ice pack and a tablet. Tim signed the forms stating he’d refused to go the hospital and some others. She told him he could pick up his copies on his way out. 

Then, she checked his temperature again, nodded to herself, and handed him the ice pack. “I know you probably don’t want anything to do with anything cold right now, sweetie, but at least keep this on your head. It’ll reduce the swelling.”

Tim took it and immediately felt a tremor run through his body at the touch of the freezing pouch. Apparently, his body was still associating cold with danger. He forced the fear response away, thanked Otieno, and pressed the ice pack against the bruise on his head. 

She looked sympathetic but strangely impressed. “I don’t supposed you changed your mind about going to the hospital?” She sighed and nodded again when he assured her that he hadn’t. 

She gave Commissioner Gordon’s shoulder a light swat as she turned to leave and then pointed to Tim. “If his words start slurring or his eyes start rolling, call me back in here immediately. And _don’t_ let that child hit his head again if he passes out.”

Gordon promised. Once Otieno was gone, he asked Tim to go over what he could remember from the moment the kidnappers broke through the door during the conference. He was patient, not pushing too hard when Tim couldn’t (or wouldn’t) answer something. 

Tim was able to tell Gordon the truth for the most part, just leaving out what had been going on in his head as the events unfolded. 

He told him about the security alarms going off. He told him about trying to keep the board and Lucius safe and that he’d agreed to go with his kidnappers for that reason. He told him that one of the men didn’t sound like he was from Gotham but didn’t give full details. He also didn’t tell him what the driver had said upon seeing him, though he wasn’t sure why. He described all three henchmen as best as he could, having not seen any of their faces, and told Gordon about them knocking him out outside the car.

He told him about waking up in the sewer and about the cold, whimsically decorated room. He told him he quickly realized he’d been undressed and redressed while unconscious. He told him he tried to play along to stay alive. He told him about pretending to drink the tea (because as a child raised in Gotham, it wouldn’t be surprising for him to know better) and his lips going numb from just that. He even told him about the Mad Hatter’s strange shifts in behavior (although he pretended not to understand it beyond the man clearly being crazy) and the way he’d kept touching his thigh. 

He left out the parts about picking the locks on his shackles and stopping the Mad Hatter himself. 

Instead, he told Gordon that Red Hood had slipped into the room while the Mad Hatter’s back was turned and had sneaked up on him and choked him out. He said the vigilante had picked the locks and told him to go hide, so he hid in a nearby room. He told him he’d found the girls then. He said everything became a little harder to recall after that. He remembered seeing the henchmen unconscious and hearing a gunshot, but then the Red Hood was there again.

“He got me out of there and brought me here. I don’t know that I’d have made it out of there if it wasn’t for him. I don’t-” Tim stopped himself from shaking his head and fought the urge to vomit for what was likely the fiftieth time that day. “I’ve read about the Hatter in the papers…I don’t think I’d have been able to play along if… If he’d gone much further.”

That part was true. Tim felt somewhat bad about it. 

He knew he should keep fighting, keep surviving, no matter what. He knew how badly it would hurt Jason and Cassandra to lose him now. He knew exactly what it felt like to lose your best friend and he didn’t want to put Conner through that. He knew the rest of his family needed him in their own ways as well. He new _Gotham_ needed him. 

He would have tried to fight, of course. But with the rate his body had been wearing down and without any of his usual tools at his disposal, he couldn’t say how that fight would have ended. The henchmen hadn’t been that far away. The Mad Hatter might be far from the largest villain he’d faced, but Tim had long learned to never underestimate crazy…especially with a Rogue who had the skills in chemistry that the Hatter did. He’d heard about the villain making himself a tainted tea that allowed him to hit hard enough to actually pose a threat to Bruce. Logically, he knew his best odds would have been to play along until just before the Mad Hatter was done with him, but he didn’t think he’d be able to do that.

Tim had been looking down at the desk, at his pale-but-airbrushed hands and bandaged wrists, while he’d been speaking. He looked up at Gordon once he was finished. Or mostly finished. He assumed there’d be some more follow-up questions for clarity. 

Gordon had apparently been waiting for him to look up to respond. It wasn’t what Tim had expected though. “None of this was your fault, son. I know telling you that you have nothing to feel ashamed of isn’t going to make the shame go away, but its true nonetheless. You weren’t actively participating in your own assault, you were _surviving_.

“As you said, you knew that playing along would keep you alive longer, maybe long enough for help to come. _It did_. You did what you had to and it paid off. Mr Pennyworth and your father were so relieved to hear you were alright when I called, and I know Jason, Dick, and Cassandra are going to be relieved too. Whatever you had to do to get out of there, you prevented your family and friends from having to lose you. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Tim hadn’t expected a pep talk, but he appreciated it. The point about this family and friends especially struck home for him. He knew what losing a family member or beloved friend felt like. He knew how Bruce responded to losing one of his Robins, even if he doubted he’d earn as strong a reaction as Jason or Dick had. He was glad his family and friends weren’t going to have to suffer that. 

“Thank you, Commissioner.” Tim took a breath. His head hurt terribly and even though the part of the sewers he’d been in weren’t the worst he’d encountered, he felt filthy. 

But he couldn’t sit there feeling sorry for himself. He had work to do. 

It didn’t fit the Mad Hatter’s MO to send his henchmen after Tim the way he had. He always took his children quietly, privately. He always took children he believed wouldn’t be immediately missed. Yet, his henchmen had come specifically for Tim at work, and they’d known exactly how to get to him. That meant someone else had orchestrated the kidnapping. 

Tim needed to find out who and why. He needed to find out if the Mad Hatter had changed the rules or if everything had gone according to plan up until he got the Rogue into a sleeper hold. He needed to find out if his family was in trouble. He needed to find out what Gordon knew. 

“Why… Why did he take me? Do you know? I mean, if he was looking for an Alice-” Tim had to fight the urge to vomit again. He wasn’t certain it was because of the line of discussion and the fresh memories of the girls’ corpses or his concussion though.

“You don’t exactly fit the part.” Gordon nodded that he understood so Tim wouldn’t have to force himself to continue. “It looks like Tetch was hired to kidnap you. At least, that’s what the henchmen that aren’t unconscious claim.” His tone and expression made it was clear Gordon knew there was the possibility that they hadn’t told the full truth. 

The man looked at Tim firmly but with kindness. “Two of your brothers had kidnapping attempts made against them as well-”

“Are they okay? When was this? What happened?” Tim’s mind was already going in ten different directions. He knew Jason was okay because he’d just been there. If Dick or Damian were missing, they had to find them. If they were hurt… 

“They’re okay. Superboy saved Damian and his friend in Metropolis, and I can’t say this officially, but the Black Bat saved Dick in Blüdhaven. They’re both fine. Mr Pennyworth has spoken to your sister and your other brother, Jason. They’re safe as well.”

“You’re sure?” Tim hadn’t been trying to sound young or scared, but the words came out that way.

“I promise.” Gordon glanced toward the closed door and spoke to Tim quietly. “Are you alright with leaving out the identity of your savior? You’ve lived in Gotham all your life, you know how this works. Saying ‘a man wearing a helmet’ instead of ‘the Red Hood’ can really help his type along. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll have to put a warrant out for his arrest.”

“Yes. Of course.” Tim didn’t show the relief he felt that Gordon was already thinking of ways to protect his big brother. “He saved me…and who knows how many other kids. I don’t want to cause him any trouble.”

“Thank you, son. That’s really going to help a lot of people.” Gordon looked strained but ultimately like he believed what he was saying. He was already considering Red Hood in a different light. If it hadn’t been for the fact that two children were murdered, the whole experience would have been worth it for that. 

Gordon’s expression turned regretful as he returned to asking questions. “Timothy, can you think of anyone who might have something against your father or your family?”

Tim tried to think. Despite everything he’d seen and experienced already, he’d been surprised at the number of threats that came in daily after he took over as CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Lucius had told him that it actually wasn’t that abnormal, that Bruce had received nearly as many when he was acting CEO. Thomas Wayne had received notably less, but it was easier to contact them now. 

That acknowledged, Tim still couldn’t think of any recent threats that stood out. He didn’t even see most of them anymore. They had employees whose sole jobs were to keep an eye on those threats and bring any that appeared significant (repeated threats or signatures, specific threats, etc) to Mrs Torres, who would bring the matter to Lucius so he could bring it to Tim. 

Thinking of Mrs Torres made Tim’s concern grow. “Wait; Mrs Torres…they hit her before they took me. Is she alright?”

Gordon blinked at the sudden change in topic, but answered quickly and calmly. “Yes. She’s at the hospital now.” He indicated Tim’s bruised head. “She’s got a concussion to match yours but she’s otherwise fine. Mr Fox has already informed me that she’ll be given some medical leave and then have therapy offered if she wants it. She should make a full recovery.”

“That’s good. Thank you.” Tim felt relieved that she was alright. He also answered Gordon’s question, letting him know that while no threats stood out to him, there had been plenty made. “I can arrange for you to have access to those files, if it will help. Or I can spare some security personnel to run it through our system to look for anything referencing the Mad Hatter or my brothers?”

“Thank you, Timothy. That will certainly help.” Gordon smiled gratefully. “I appreciate the cooperation.”

“Of course. You’re helping my family.” Tim frowned. His family could probably do most of the work themselves in catching whoever was behind this, but it wasn’t as if Gordon knew that. “Why wouldn’t I cooperate?”

“You’d be surprised how paranoid some people in your position are of their business.” Gordon sounded honest and equally disappointed to say what he reported next. “Getting access to any information can be like pulling teeth.”

Tim wondered if that spoke to the level of corruption in the city more than paranoia, but he accepted the reasoning. It wasn’t as though he had nothing to hide, after all. He doubted his secret was the same as most others who refused to cooperate. He wondered how it was that his family managed to keep such a secret while being professional and cooperative during such trials when others with less all-encompassing secrets couldn't.

“I understand.” Tim did, even if he didn’t like it. “If there’s anything else I can do to help make your job any easier, please let me know. I want my family safe.”

“Thank you, son.” Gordon nodded. “I will.”

He waited a brief moment, as if to give Tim time in case he considered anything else, before moving on. “I got a report in while you were changing. We have the Hatter and three accomplices in custody. They’re currently at the hospital, but we’ve got a close eye on them.” 

He hesitated, and then continued. “It looks like the Hatter was shot while trying to escape after you left the room. He was going into surgery last I heard, but the outcome doesn’t look good for him. Even if he survives, he’s likely going to be quadriplegic or paraplegic. At present his lungs aren’t even working on their own and his heart’s already stopped on the way to the hospital. The accomplices are all going to survive and will be moved to a holding cell as soon as they’re released from the hospital.” 

Gordon looked torn, like he was slightly relieved to hear one of the city’s worst Rogues wasn’t going to be escaping again anytime soon but knew he shouldn’t be pleased that someone had taken the law into their own hands and shot someone else. 

His expression turned comforting as he looked at Tim, who sat slightly numbed at the news. “I just want you to know they aren’t going to be able to hurt anyone else. They aren’t going to be able to hurt _you_ any more.”

Tim hadn’t been worried about being caught by the Hatter again. He was more concerned about whoever was the mastermind behind the kidnappings. However, hearing that the Rogue had been paralyzed caused a new concern. Tim had done something similar, when the Joker threatened to kill Jason again. 

However, he’d played it more carefully. He’d made sure the man would survive. He’d been alone, trapped, frightened, and more than a little desperate at the time. He hadn’t meant to set any sort of precedent. Now he was worried that he had done just that. It made him sick to think it. 

He closed his eyes and took a breath. He could talk to Jason later. His brother was a good man. He just got impatient at times. He let his passion for justice push him to become too violent. 

But he’d been doing better at drawing his own line lately. Tim had to consider that. He had to give his big brother the benefit of the doubt. And he always would. He’d try not to think on it until Jason had a chance to explain why he’d done it.

He opened his eyes and gave a small nod to show Gordon he’d heard him. It hurt his head, but he’d been too distracted to think on it before he acted. 

Gordon frowned as he looked Tim over, concerned and discomfited. Finally, he glanced at the door and then dropped his voice again, even lower than the last time. “Look, son, I don’t know if Jason told you, but he and I talked after the last time you were…taken.”

Tim felt a chill move down his spine and his stomach dropped. He didn’t have to worry about keeping his voice down, it was a struggle just to be loud enough to be heard. “Do you-” He swallowed and blinked. He suddenly felt cold again. “Do you think _he_ had something to do with this?”

Tim had kept an ear out for any word of the Joker since the kidnapping Gordon just referenced. The man was stable and had improved better than expected. His breathing and heartbeat were strong. He was already using several fingers. However, Tim hadn’t heard of anything changing with the Joker as far as him receiving any further privileges or privacy since his last return to Arkham. 

Still, it was tricky with the insane Rogues. If they could behave well enough for long enough to fool the right people, you never knew what might happen. 

“No, son. He’s locked away in Arkham. He doesn’t even know who you are. He cant hurt you.” It looked like Gordon didn’t entirely believe that but he wanted to put Tim at ease after unintentionally frightening him. He put a hand on the desk between them, as though he’d wanted to offer some comfort but thought better of putting a hand on Tim again.

Tim appreciated the consideration. He also knew the Joker wasn’t necessarily harmless, but there was no reason to assume he had anything to do with the Mad Hatter. There was no known bond between the two Rogues and the Hatter wasn’t normally a Rogue for hire. 

That meant whoever was behind the kidnapping either offered the Hatter something he couldn’t resist or he had something to threaten the man with. 

“Timothy?” 

Tim settled his attention back on Gordon at the man’s voice. 

He looked concerned. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about him or even think about him, so I’m sorry to bring up the Joker. I’ve seen what too much trauma one after another can do to someone.” He pulled a card from his wallet and placed it on the desk between them, facing Tim. It gave the contact information of a trauma therapist. It was worn, something he’d had on him for a while.

He slid the card closer to Tim, clearly indicating that he wanted him to take it. “If you start feeling like this is all too much to deal with or find yourself unable to move on… Or worse, if you start blaming yourself for any of this, you might want to talk to someone. I’ve spoken to this doctor before. He’s good, and he has a lot of experience with people who have been hurt by some of our Rogues. No pressure, son, just something for you to consider.”

Tim took the card. He knew he’d never use it. It wasn’t an option for him or anyone who kept the type of secret he did. The information he’d have to keep from the doctor would make the treatment useless. He wouldn’t waste either of their time like that. Still, he thanked Gordon and kept the card to make the man feel better. He was sure he’d find someone to pass it along to in his other line of work. 

“I also understand why you’d be reluctant to go to the hospital or let the EMTs see your skin.” Gordon offered a sympathetic look as he glanced down where the neck of the jumpsuit was just hiding Tim’s bleached skin from view. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Gordon asked, looking at Tim firmly. “I already know about the bleach. I’m not going to react to it if you need help. Do you?”

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” Tim would be, eventually. He knew that. In the meantime, the same old rules would apply. He had work to do and secrets to keep. He couldn't afford to slip up.

Gordon simply nodded. “I should check up with my officers. You can stay here. Take a moment. I’ll tell your father where to find you when he gets here.”

With that, he left to give Tim a moment of privacy.

Tim sighed. He glanced at the door, noting that no one was there to look inside and held the ice pack against his bruised face. Cold never did anything for pain for him, but it would reduce the swelling, as Otieno had stated. Tim decided he’d have to think of some sort of emergency protocol he could set up to avoid being sent to a hospital in the future, should he not be in any condition to say ‘no’. His fair skin would be a liability for some time and the number of scars and healed broken bones he had would always pose a problem.

Tim’s mind was focus on the hospital dilemma he’d already considered, as well as fighting too many memories of the Joker and the Mad Hatter’s victims, that he didn’t notice Jason arrive until he was in the room with him. Without thinking, Tim dropped the ice pack and moved to hug his big brother. 

Jason’s back stiffened in surprise but his arms immediately wrapped around Tim’s shoulders. Tim held on tightly for a few seconds. He’d gone back to the way he used to think when he’d first woken up in the sewers. He’d approached the problem as though he were on his own for the long haul. He hadn’t even considered that someone was already on the way to help him. It meant a lot to him that Jason had come for him, even as he realized it wasn’t surprising the way it once would have been. 

He appreciated that. He’d missed having someone like that for a while. He’d been so used to being alone as a small child that he never thought anything of it until Alfred, Bruce, and Dick became a part of his life and showed him what family was. Then Conner, Bart, and Cassie had come along and he’d learned what it meant to really have friends. When he’d lost all that, he’d felt adrift and alone. 

He was finally getting that back, that sense of family and friendship. That feeling that he wasn’t completely alone in the world. Jason had played a large role in that. Tim loved his big brother. He loved having a family, even if some of them likely didn’t consider him the same. He loved his friends and knew they loved him, too.

He felt a little bad for forgetting that in a moment of stress.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.” Tim spoke against Jason’s chest once he realized his big brother was going to need an explanation before he started panicking that Tim was far more traumatized than he’d expected. “They said it looked like whoever was behind my kidnapping had arranged for each of us to be taken.”

Sure enough, Jason’s tight body loosened with relief as soon as he heard that.

The relief didn’t last long for Tim as his big brother explained that he hadn’t been excluded from what was apparently a family kidnapping scheme. He claimed a couple of Poison Ivy fangirls had drugged him at the bank. Tim could tell there was a lot more to the story, but he wisely didn’t question it at the police station. Especially since the officer who had shown Jason to the office was still standing in the doorway.

The officer asked a few questions and arranged to swab Jason’s lips since he was fairly sure the poison that had knocked him out had been in his assailant’s lip gloss. Jason played it off perfectly, agreeing to cooperate but reminding the man that he wanted to get Tim home to their worried family to rush things along.

He’d also brought Tim some clothes, which he appreciated. It had been nice enough just to get out of the Alice costume, but it was nicer still to be able to wear his own clothes. Jason had even brought him his favorite hoodie.

His big brother also stood so that he was blocking the window in the door while Tim changed. Unlike Gordon, Jason watched and took note of Tim’s other injures. He asked after them and checked to see what had been done in regards to the injures Tim couldn’t have kept hidden. It wasn’t uncomfortable or prying. Tim even thought the show of concern was nice.

The officer returned with a CSI to swab Jason’s lips and take a blood sample. As they did, Tim considered ways to make his big brother’s DNA disappear from their databases after they’d identified the poison without making it look too obvious that Jason Todd-Wayne’s DNA had been scrubbed from their records. Or without making any specific individual working the case look incompetent. He had a pretty good plan of action in mind by the time they were ready to go.

The officer had apparently spoken to one of the EMTs from earlier. He tried once more to see if Tim could be convinced to go to the hospital.

“Thank you but I really want to just go home after all this. If anything starts troubling me later, I’ll see my personal physician.” Tim kept his tone polite but firm enough to suggest he wouldn’t be swayed. It was also just shaky enough to keep up appearances. The officer accepted the answer easily.

Jason signaled to Bruce that they were leaving and he excused himself from his conversation with Gordon to come over to talk to them. He filled them in on what he’d been told and helped lay out their cover story while sounding as though he were just checking in. With the kidnapping attempts being public, they were going to have to be careful. The public was going to be watching the family. They couldn’t afford to give anything away.

He placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder before letting them go with the expected comments that he was glad they were safe. He didn’t touch Tim. Not that the boy had expected any different. His head hurt and everyone would expect him to still be shaken so he just let Jason do all the talking for them.

Alfred was waiting for them at the rear entrance. He drove them to their apartment, so Jason could offer the clothes he’d been wearing during his own ‘attempted kidnapping’ while Bruce made a statement to the press. While secure in the car with just Alfred and Tim, Jason filled them in on what had really happened. He’d actually been taken by some of Poison Ivy’s henchmen, but Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn hadn’t planned on following the mastermind’s lead. Instead, they’d wanted to ransom Jason to the family to pay for an impact inspection against Lee Inc, as Ivy knew for a fact the previous one had left out some endangered plants the company’s new land housed. Jason had made a deal with them, convincing them to just release him so he could send someone after his brother and promising they’d take care of the Lee Inc problem themselves afterwards.

Once Jason had given Detective Montoya the clothes and answered a few questions for her, they got back into the car to head to the Manor. On the way, Tim made some calls to ensure that the real impact inspection took place. He also arranged for Wayne Enterprises to be ready to make an offer once Lee Inc realized they were finished. The offer was fair enough that the Lee family wouldn’t be too embarrassed, and even though Tim intended to kill the company after purchase, he would transfer their employees to Wayne Enterprises first, so no one would end up destitute over the buyout.

It was nice to focus on another problem for a moment. One he could easily solve.

It was also nice to arrive at the Manor and see his other siblings, more or less unharmed. Damian had a minor cut on his neck and Dick had clearly been shot with some sort of tranquilizer dart. Otherwise, they were okay and Cassandra hadn’t been touched. Conner and Jon were there, having brought Damian home earlier.

Conner inspected Tim’s head with his x-ray vision upon seeing the bruising. “You have a concussion.” He frowned in protective irritation. “Is that a hairline fracture?”

Used to his friend checking on him in such a way (and appreciating it) Tim answered simply for the time being. He’d fill Conner in better when they had some time alone later. “Yeah, that’s from when the henchman knocked me out. Nothing I could do about it as a civilian. Its okay though. Tetch wasn’t expecting a fight and Jason got there before the henchmen could figure out anything was up.”

Jason tapped Tim’s shoulder while he was talking, then motioned toward one of the sofas. Tim ended up sitting between him and Conner when they all settled onto it. Dick, Cassandra, Damian, and Jon were seated across from them. His siblings began filling them in on their own kidnapping attempts that day. Cassandra had defeated both Philo Zeiss and Catman. Conner had caught Onomatopoeia when he’d threatened Jon and Damian.

Tim was feeling much better until Alfred placed a tray of tea in front of him and he immediately felt his stomach roll as images of a cold tea party that had been two dead girls’ final nightmare entered his mind. Tim apologized when he asked if Alfred could take the tea away. He knew that was part of how the kind man offered comfort, and it normally did comfort him, but he couldn’t deal with all that yet.

Fortunately, Alfred handled the moment with his usual grace and aplomb after Jason informed everyone that Tim had been taken by the Mad Hatter.

Once the kind man left to trade the tea for some lemonade, Conner asked Tim what had happened with the Rogue.

“I knocked him out, Jay took out the henchmen, then he made sure Tetch was secure before we got out of there.” Tim would tell his friend more details later, but for the time being, he didn’t want to mention the gunshot in front of everyone. He didn’t want Jason to be bombarded with their reactions so soon. He didn’t think it was fair for him to speak on it when he didn’t fully understand the action yet.

Fortunately, Dick asked Jason what had happened with him rather than ask any followup on Tim or the Hatter. Jason filled everyone in on his excursion with Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn until Alfred returned with Clark Kent in tow.

Soon enough, Clark took Conner and Jon home after assuring each of the Waynes that they were welcome to come to their farm if they needed to get out of the city. Despite the previous conversations on the matter making it clear Bruce and Clark expected them to leave, Conner glanced at his best friend before following his father and brother. “Want me to stay?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m aware there’s a threat now.” Tim indicated his family. “We’ll get it taken care of.” Then he offered his friend a smile. He always appreciated that his best friend was there for him, even if he didn’t take him up on the offer as often as Conner would probably like.

Still, he appreciated the reminder. “Thanks, Con.”

Conner nodded and stood. “If you need help, remember, just call me. I’ll be there.”

Tim planned to do just that. Sooner than his friend might have realized. He had questions that Conner might be able to help him answer.

For his current kidnapping, he’d been taken as Tim Wayne, so it wasn’t as though he could have simply called for Conner and let his friend handle it. Not without arousing some suspicion on the connection. Not without risking his best friend and his family’s secret identities. That was something Tim would never do.

Now that it was over, however, he could ask his best friend for help.

Bruce asked to speak with Jason privately after the Kents left and he’d heard the basics of everything that had happened from his other children. Tim knew the man had learned about the Hatter’s injury. He knew what he wanted to talk to Jason about privately. He made sure his big brother knew he would come with him if he wanted. As far as Tim was concerned, that was his fight as much as it was Jason’s. Even if it hadn’t been, he’d still stand by his big brother, even against Bruce.

But Jason motioned for him to sit that one out and he respected him, so he did.

Once Bruce and Jason left the room, Cassandra continued eating the cookies Alfred had brought with the lemonade and Dick started talking to Damian about what had happened with Onomatopoeia. Tim took the opportunity to quietly leave the room. He motioned to Cassandra that he was stepping out, since she looked up as soon as he stood. She nodded and then he headed for the balcony above the ballroom at the back of the Manor.

He spoke quietly. No one in the Manor could possibly hear him. The person he was speaking to would only hear him if he’d been listening, as he knew he would be. “Con? You got a minute?”

In approximately two minutes, Conner landed on the balcony in front of him.

Tim didn’t smile, he couldn't muster one with what was coming, but his voice would tell his friend he appreciated him coming. “Thanks.”

“Of course. I told you, I’m here if you need me. All you ever have to do is call.” Conner looked at Tim’s bruised face. “You need to start remembering it _before_ something like that happens.”

That comment caused Tim to have to fight another shudder. 

Somewhere along the line, the usual boundaries that exited between friends stopped applying to them. That meant that Tim wasn’t sure how well Conner had looked him over already with his x-ray vision. He wanted to ask his friend what he saw, but he didn’t want Conner to be put in the position to have to face something potentially disturbing if he hadn’t checked that much already.

Conner caught the shudder and frowned in concern. “Tim, talk to me. What happened?”

“Have you-” Tim sighed and looked at his friend. This was what he’d called him back to ask for help with anyway. “How much have you seen already?” 

Conner looked concerned at that. “Well, you know I checked your head.” He gestured toward his friends hands. “I also saw your wrists. It was too obvious you were keeping them covered.”

He glanced over Tim, not using his x-ray vision, but taking in his body language. His frown deepened and his eyes narrowed. “How much more is there to see?”

“I don’t know.” Tim had his arms wrapped around himself by then. There wasn’t any point in trying to look tough in front of Conner. They’d seen each other through too much and with what he was about to tell him, he wasn’t going to be able to play it cool. “When I woke up after the henchmen knocked me out…Tetch had dressed me up.”

Conner’s eyes narrowed further and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “What do you mean he ‘dressed you up’?”

Tim directed his gaze over the grounds. It was easier than watching the anger grow in his best friend’s face as he explained. He knew he’d stop if he saw it bothering Conner too much, even if his friend wanted to hear it all. “He’d taken all my clothes off and redressed me as Alice in Wonderland. So now, I have to worry about this lunatic wondering why my skin is so pale or why I have so many scars. I don’t even know if we were alone in the room at the time, or if he had his henchmen help.” 

He closed his eyes and swore quietly. “They could have _all_ seen me.” 

He fought another shudder. He hadn’t wanted to follow that through to another possibility, but he had to face it sooner or later, and here with his best friend was the best place for it. “They could have all _touched_ me.” He felt disgusting.

“They could have…” Conner’s voice switched from disturbed to cold and murderous. “What else did he do?” 

“I don’t know.” Tim spoke plainly and looked at his friend honestly. “I wouldn't let the EMTs or the cops check out anything that wasn’t already visible with the dress and tights on. I _couldn’t_. How was I going to explain what they’d see?” He gave a small, awkward shrug with his arms still around himself, as if his friend couldn’t look past them at any time. 

“ _Tights_? Wait- So you didn’t get checked out anywhere…” Conner’s eyes started to move down Tim’s body but then stopped. He swallowed and held his friend’s gaze. “Anywhere _private_?”

“No.” Tim hadn’t wanted to think about that, but he knew he had to. He didn’t _feel_ like he’d been hurt anywhere private, but he’d never gotten past kissing with anyone. He honestly didn’t know how much he should expect to feel if he hadn’t been awake to fight, but he assumed he’d feel some level of pain. “I’ll check later. After I’m home.”

Conner reached out and carefully gripped Tim’s shoulder. He met Tim’s gaze, looking sympathetic, angry, and imploring all once. “Let me?”

Tim could trust Conner to keep a secret, he had no doubt. What he had to consider was, did he plan to keep this a secret from his best friend if he _did_ find anything… 

He knew Conner wouldn’t take it well. He couldn't stand those types of crimes when he _didn’t_ have a personal relationship with the victim. If they found anything bad, Tim wasn’t sure what his friend would do. He’d already had his brother paralyze a Rogue that night. Tim reasoned that it might be best to just keep a lid on anything that hadn’t already come out.

Apparently, his friend knew exactly why he was hesitating to answer. 

Conner’s voice was firm and his eyes were narrowed again. “Tim, I know you Waynes are big on secrets, but _not with this_. Whether you let me check now or you check it out later, you aren’t going to keep this one to yourself. I promise, I’m not gonna freak out about it and I’ll keep it between us. You know that.”

“I do.” He never doubted it. He never doubted Conner. So he supposed he should also trust his friend to handle this if he said he could. Tim sighed. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Conner gestured over Tim.

“I need to know. And I trust you more than any doctor.” He looked at his friend. “Do it. Please.”

Conner gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze that felt loving and comforting rather than creepy, as the Hatter’s grip had. Then he took a step back, so he could see more of Tim easier. His gaze turned intense the way it did when he was using his x-ray vision. He slowly looked over his best friend, pausing here and there, in places where Tim knew he had a notable scar or bruise. That was what let Tim know Conner was looking at surface damage first. Part of his mind realized that meant his best friend was essentially looking at him naked as well, but it wasn’t the same as being seen by some stranger who’d kidnapped him. 

Conner knew him, knew who he was. He trusted Conner. His best friend wasn’t going to ask questions he had no right to know the answer to. He wasn’t going to talk to anyone else about what he’d seen. He wasn’t looking for his own enjoyment. Conner hadn’t needed to ask permission, but he had, because he respected Tim. 

He cared about him. 

“Dammit, Tim…there are so many scars.” His best friend sighed softly and looked worried. “What are you gonna do, just never let anyone see you naked?”

“No one who doesn’t know what I am, anyway. Not if it can be helped.” Tim wasn’t sure exactly how practical that plan was, but if he’d managed to avoid going to a hospital now and when the Joker had kidnapped him, he figured the odds weren’t as bad as he might have once thought. As for physical intimacy, he hadn’t felt any need for it before. He wasn’t any more interested now.

“I guess its smarter than the whole ‘playboy’ thing your father used to have going.” After making the statement, Conner’s focus clearly took more effort, so both boys remained quiet. 

By Conner’s look of concentration and the way he kept looking over the same areas, Tim guessed he was likely going deeper by turns, noting any injures, until he was down to the skeleton. Conner still had some trouble controlling his x-ray vision to that extent. It was easier for him to just look through all soft tissues or materials than to try to see through only specific layers. But he focused, looking for every sign of what had been done to his best friend. 

Tim appreciated the effort more than he could say at the moment.

Finally, Conner stepped closer again. His gaze was clearly _on_ Tim’s face rather than looking through it. He rubbed his neck. “Look, I know enough about this sort of thing to know you might not appreciate being hugged right now, but-”

Tim stepped forward and hugged him then. It had been a rough day. He figured he wasn’t the only one who could use it. 

Conner froze for a second, surprised, and then returned the embrace. “You know, in the future, you don’t have to wait until I say something or until one of us almost dies. If you need a hug, come get one. We Kents are lot more open to affection than you Waynes are.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” Tim didn’t remove his face from his friend’s shirt. With his super hearing, he trusted he’d work it out. “What did you see?”

“Your head’s in bad shape. You need to be careful. Beyond that, there isn’t anything… _inside_.” Conner didn’t sound as angry as he had before, but he still didn’t sound calm. “Did he- Was there a struggle? Did you get slammed onto a hard surface a lot?”

Tim answered right away. He didn’t want his friend to worry any longer than he already had. “While I had him in a sleeper hold. There was a really unforgiving wooden table and a tapestry covered sewer wall.”

Conner sighed, somewhere between agitation and relief. Tim got it. His friend was agitated that he’d been hurt, of course. He was also relieved the bruises covering his back were due to something more in their comfort level than any other reason he could think of for them. 

“There’s something else… Its not visible on the surface level, but there’s bruising on your thigh.” His tone turned more hostile again. “It looks like fingers. Like someone was squeezing it.”

Tim held on a little tighter without meaning to at the reminder. “That was Tetch. He kept grabbing me.”

Conner held on a little tighter as well. “If that asshole ever gets out again, call me.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen, but I will.” Part of Tim wanted to keep his mouth shut. He still didn’t know all the details and he didn’t want to risk saying anything that might incriminate Jason. 

At the same time, he knew the press was going to report on the Mad Hatter’s condition. Conner would hear about it. He’d want to know what happened. If their positions had been reversed, Tim would want to know what had happened too. 

He took a deep breath and loosened his hold on his friend. Conner caught on and let Tim step away.

He frowned when he caught sight of Tim’s face. “What is it?”

“After the Mad Hatter was down and more or less contained, I ran. He wasn't going to stay out for long and I needed to get help before he could escape. That’s when…when I found his last victims.” Tim shook his head slowly. He still could see the evidence of the girls’ final moments in his mind. “What those girls went through, Con…” 

Conner’s hand gently cupped his head to keep it still. By his expression, he understood what Tim had seen. He understood why he’d slipped with his head. He didn’t speak against it for the time being. 

Tim looked at his friend. He wouldn’t go into detail. He didn’t want Conner to have to picture it with anything resembling the clarity he saw it with. “It was horrible.”

That was enough. Conner looked sad as he nodded that he understood.

“That’s when Jason came. He took care of the henchmen. Then he found me. Then…he was going to check on Tetch.” Tim might have shaken his head again in his confusion, but Conner’s hold reminded him not to risk upsetting his injury. 

He still didn’t know how Jason had ended up shooting the Rogue. It didn’t make sense. Unless his big brother had simply decided to stop the Rogue for good without resorting to his usual lethal methods of doing so. Tim wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He was glad Jason hadn’t killed the Rogue needlessly, but he didn’t understand why he’d shot him. He didn’t know if his brother had been aiming for justice or vengeance. 

Conner shifted his hand to rest on Tim’s uninjured cheek and directed his gaze up to his face. “Whatever it is, Tim…remember, its not worth hurting yourself over.”

His best friend had told him that before, after the Joker had kidnapped him. Tim needed to remember it. To remember that he was needed. That he was cared for.

He would remember that while he recovered this time. “Thanks, Con.”

Conner nodded. “Anytime.” He looked Tim’s face over once he released him. “So what happened? With the Hatter?”

“I don’t know exactly what happened, but Jason ended up shooting him. He severed his spine. Last I heard, it didn’t look good.” Tim watched his friend’s face closely, to see how he was handling that.

He didn’t look angry. Or at least not entirely angry. He mostly looked confused. “Didn’t look good for who?”

“Tetch.” Tim explained that when his friend looked less than settled on his meaning. “Gordon said he might not make it. If he does…with that kind of injury, he’s probably going to need machines to keep him alive. He’s definitely not going to be moving around again without some sort of super-surgeon or new tech advancement in the future.”

Conner looked torn. “I’m still not a fan of the guns…or your brother in general.” He offered a slightly apologetic look at that admission. “But its kinda hard to see that as looking so bad now. All things considered.” 

He looked Tim over. “Unless you think he’s slipping.” His tone was serious. “Do you still feel safe?”

“With Jay? Always.” That was never going to be a problem and Tim could see he needed to explain that to his best friend. “I’m not scared of him, Con, and I’m not making excuses. I’m _worried_ for him. I don’t want him to get into any trouble.

“He’s fought too hard to get where he is now.” Tim believed in Jason entirely but he also knew exactly what it might take to push his big brother into doing something he might regret later. “I don’t want him to lose any ground or cross any lines over me.” 

Conner immediately frowned. He stepped closer to Tim and dropped his voice, knowing the subject he was about to voice wasn’t one his friend wanted anyone else hearing. “The Joker was full of crap, Tim. You’re worth it. If anyone’s worth crossing that line over, its you. _I_ know it.”

Tim didn’t like the idea of anyone crossing that line, not for him. Certainly not his big brother or his best friend. But he couldn’t say anything against the conviction that was in Conner’s voice as he said that. Superman himself couldn’t sound any firmer.

“…And I guess Jason does, too.” Conner offered his friend half a smile. “Maybe he’s smarter than he looks.”

Tim appreciated the attempt at lightening his earlier statement, but he was still a little uncertain of how to respond to it. He was moved far more than he’d expected. He supposed that meant he’d needed the reminder. Perhaps his most recent kidnapping had brought up some feelings he hadn’t quite dealt with from the previous one. He wasn’t surprised Conner had seen it before he did. 

He remembered then that his big brother was just as affected by the last kidnapping. Any threat involving the Joker hit Jason harder than most. Perhaps that was why he’d responded so fiercely to the Mad Hatter. Maybe the reminder of the previous threat against his family had just been too strong to let this one slide. Or maybe after seeing those girls, Jason had felt it was just. He always responded strongly to villains who hurt children.

Tim felt slightly guilty for not considering that Jason had likely been reminded of his last kidnapping sooner. He also still felt guilty about those poor girls. He was still more than a little creeped out. But he supposed he needed to consider that more of what he was freaking out over was in his head. Not that he didn’t have any reason to feel worried, or guilty, or disturbed…

He put a hand on his sore head and took a breath. It was all starting to feel like a little much.

He looked at Conner. He didn’t bother trying to hide how confused and disturbed he felt. “Is it okay to ask for that hug now?”

His best friend’s arms were around him before he even finished the question.


	5. Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jason and Tim offer each other some comfort and reassurance at home.

Tim felt notably better when he returned to his and Jason’s apartment later. 

His friend had reminded him again that he was only a call away before he left. Jason came to find him on the balcony right afterwards. He looked slightly thrown but relieved, almost content. Until he’d seen Tim hanging out on the balcony by himself anyway. Once Tim assured him he was alright, his big brother dragged him to the dining room for dinner. Then, they’d finally gone home.

He snagged one of the gauntlets he kept hidden there when he grabbed a change of clothes. As much as he just wanted to bathe any reminders of the night off of him, there was still a mystery to solve. Tetch had been hired, along with the other Rogues who’d threatened his siblings. 

Someone was threatening his family through them. Someone who was still out there. Tim had to at least check for any evidence that Tetch (or Tim) had been somewhere else or with someone else.

He had to make sure he didn’t wash away any such evidence when it might lead them to the man behind the kidnappings. 

He knew that at some point while he’d been unconscious that night, he’d been naked. He knew the Mad Hatter had handled his body while he was naked. Besides being completely disturbing, these facts meant that his entire body could potentially have evidence on it. So, he started swabbing every part of him and running every diagnostic he could think of. He even combed his hair and ran what came out of it. 

If anything came back that didn’t match the sewers, Jervis Tetch, his henchmen, or their getaway car, then that was something to look into. 

Tim was feeling _very_ disturbed by such thoughts when he finally got into the shower. He’d dropped a towel over his gauntlet, just in case Jason checked in on him or tried to retrieve Dex. Tim’s cat was sitting on the toilet, as though guarding his owner. Tim appreciated the show of support. Once he’d cleaned off anything he might have picked up in the sewers, he’d give his cat a cuddle. 

After he’d scrubbed up and rinsed off a couple times, the alert he’d set on the gauntlet sounded. Tim left the water on as he wrapped a towel around himself and checked it. Nothing was there that didn’t belong. Well, he discovered that he’d ended up with Jervis Tetch’s saliva on a fair amount of his skin. It appeared to have settled around some of his more prominent scars, especially the one on his chest. 

That was...gross...but not entirely unexpected. At least it was all only on his torso. And only on the surface of his skin, as Conner had assured him. 

More importantly, Tim reminded himself, it didn’t help them catch whoever had arranged the kidnappings. That meant it shouldn’t matter. He was home. He wasn’t injured (much). He was with his big brother. They had other things to worry about.

He got back in the shower and scrubbed down again anyway. Then he just stood under the flow of almost-too-hot water for a moment. 

Jason poked his head in then. “Timbers, you okay in there?” 

Tim considered that question briefly. Between the hot water, Dex watching over him, Conner’s earlier assurance, the results being not as bad as they could have been, and the knowledge that Jason was right outside, he was truly feeling more comfortable. He was starting to feel close to okay again.

“Yeah, just...feel gross.” He ran his hands over his hair, ensuring he got the last round of shampoo out. “I’ll be out in a minute. I know you have some questions.”

He didn’t want to worry Jason. He didn’t want his big brother to feel that he couldn’t take care of himself or worse, like Tim was his responsibility. It hadn’t been long at all since the Joker had taken him. Tim reminded himself that this one hadn’t been that bad. That he was okay. 

He also tried to remind himself that it didn’t mean anything that he was the only one who’d been successfully taken. It didn’t mean he was anything less than the others. It didn’t mean there was anything wrong with him. 

He hoped that if he kept telling himself that, he’d believe it. 

Logically, he knew why he’d been taken each time. He knew why he might appear to be an easier target. He knew it wasn’t anything he’d done wrong. He knew it could have happened to any of his siblings as easily if they’d been the same position. 

He still couldn’t help but feel like he just kept screwing up.

He dried off, dressed, and re-wrapped his wrists. He didn’t bother trying to hide them again. He appreciated that Jason had given him the means to do so before, but now that it was just him and his big brother, he didn’t feel the need. Jason wouldn’t treat him like he was incapable or fragile. He wouldn’t think he was weak just because he’d gotten hurt. 

He gave Dex the cuddle he’d been waiting for. His cat purred and rubbed his face against Tim’s shoulder. 

Jason had set up a video game they’d taken to playing when they needed to wind their minds down after a long night. Tim appreciated the gesture. Jason waited until he was settled before he started asking him his questions. While there were the expected ones about if he’d heard anything, Jason quickly got to checking on him. To make sure there hadn’t been any damage he wasn’t aware of. 

Tim didn’t tell him about having Conner check him out or what he’d found from the swabs. He just assured him that he knew of all his injures. Before he could think of a way to bring up the shooting while making sure his big brother didn’t feel judged, Jason asked him if he knew about it. 

It gave Tim the opportunity to ask why. “Was it because of me? Because of _him_?”

He trusted Jason to know which ‘him’ he was referring to. The Joker was a tough subject for both of them.

His big brother not only answered but he was completely honest in his explanation. He didn’t try to present his actions as anything other than what they were. Clearly, he trusted Tim to understand. “It was because of everything. You, _him_ , the Mad Hatter, his fucking henchmen, the kidnappings, the dead girls, the costume. Everything.”

Jason shook his head and took a deep breath. “I’m sick of the cycle. We put these assholes away and they just keep coming back, and they keep hurting people. I’m done with it. I’m not going to let them keep hurting you. I’m not going to let any of them keep killing kids.”

Tim got it. He wouldn’t have made the same call but he’d never expected Jason to alter his own behavior to match his ideals. They drew their lines in different places, but they were fighting for the same side. They were protecting the same people. His brother’s idea of justice was different than his, but he knew he’d never hurt an innocent person again. 

In addition to that, Tim was truly touched at the reminder of how much he meant to Jason. His big brother meant just as much to him. He shifted closer to his big brother. Both to offer some comfort and reassurance that they were okay. Jason took the weight and accepted the affection with ease. He offered support and comfort in return. 

Tim considered the situation and Jason’s goals against his own morals briefly before speaking. “You did what you thought was right. I don’t think its my place to say whether it was or not.” It wasn’t. He was in no place to judge his big brother. He hadn’t asked for that reason to begin with. He’d simply wanted to check on him and to understand his reasoning.

To that end, he had another question, but he wouldn’t ask without making sure Jason was still okay with the conversation. “But can I ask you something?” Tim glanced at Jason, checking his reaction. 

Jason nodded. “Sure.” It sounded like he was glad they were having the conversation. Like he was glad for the opportunity to explain himself and help his little brother understand him better. 

Tim hoped that was the case. 

“Was it for justice, or revenge?” Again, he wasn’t judging his big brother. He just wanted to understand how he classified such an action. 

Jason answered with the same honesty and the same ease. “It was both. I wanted justice for all the kids he’s taken and all the families he’s devastated. I wanted them to be able to move on. I wanted others who were afraid of losing their kids to have some reprieve.

“I also wanted revenge.” Jason admitted. One of his hands was gripping the controller tightly, the other was balled into a fist on his thigh. “I wanted payback for him threatening _my_ family.”

Tim understood that, too. More than he cared to admit, but he did. He trusted Jason not to judge him either. He didn’t think he’d go on a quest for vengeance if his big brother were taken from him, but he knew he’d want whoever had hurt Jason to pay for it. Whether that was justice or vengeance, he couldn't say. He supposed it might be both, like what Jason had done. 

They talked for a while longer. It was nice. Tim was happy to learn more about his big brother. He was happy just to be with him. He knew he had another recovery a head of him but he also knew this one wouldn’t be nearly as bad as the last. He had a great big brother, a wonderful friend, and an awesome cat to help him get through. 

As Tim began to feel himself drifting off, he knew he should stop the game and go to bed. He didn’t. Instead, he remained beside his big brother until he couldn’t hold his head up any longer. Then he let his head drop against Jason’s arm. His big brother didn’t move. Tim listened to Jason continue to play, listened to his deep, even breaths and Dex’s low purr, remembering that he and his family were all home safe for now. 

Tomorrow, they would have to start trying to find whoever had set the day’s kidnappings in place. For the time being, they could all take a moment to appreciate that the day had ended with everyone alright.

Well, more or less. Tim wasn’t looking forward to the nightmares he knew would come from the experience, but he’d survived far worse. If Azrael, Ra’s al Ghul, and the Joker each hadn’t managed to prevent him from getting back out there, then the Mad Hatter certainly wouldn't. 

With Jason beside him, Dex purring from his perch on the back of the sofa behind him, and Conner just a call away, Tim felt safe. 

He stayed with his big brother until sleep finally overcame him.

**Author's Note:**

> Other stories referenced are:  
> ['Last Laugh, First Steps'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281652) is the story of the Joker kidnapping Tim as referenced here. It also is the story where Tim and Jason become roommates and partners with separate solo careers.  
> ['A Dark Place'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23459173) takes place between the final chapters of _Last Laugh, First Steps_ and informs you of Tim's emotional/mental state.  
> ['Homecoming'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15308025) is the story where Jason is officially brought back to life legally.  
> ['Dex-Starr Finds a New Home'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11307210) is the story wherein Dex becomes Tim's cat.  
> ['Bat Family Projects'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661057) follows _Dex-Starr Finds a New Home_ and shows how the family decided to bring Jason back officially. 
> 
> The story title is taken from Lewis Carroll's poem, ['Phantasmagoria Canto 1 (The Trysting)'](https://allpoetry.com/Phantasmagoria--Canto-I-%28The-Trystyng-%29). The poem is unrelated to the story and will not add to your understanding of it at all. Since its about a man being haunted by a ghost and was by Lewis Carroll, I just kept thinking of it when writing Tim here.


End file.
